Mother and Daughter
by Terrorking Tragedian
Summary: Miley has been unseperable from her mother before it happened. Now she's haunted by that memory every night, and it's clear that she's not getting over it. Focus is on Miley's relationship with her mom, and her incurable depression. Abandoned until later
1. Mother and Daughter

If you are reading this then that means I have learned to upload stories onto the website. Right! Having surfed the website for so long I have failed to find many stories that are to my taste, sorry to those who might be offended. I have hence decided to write my own and publish it. You see, I like to watch people suffer, and not enough of that clean albeit sadistic literature is seen in Well, please read it and tell me what you think. This is my first story published (not the first I've ever written).

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana, neither do I own any related products. Brooke Shields's name appears as Miley Stewart's mom in reference to her on-screen role in Hannah Montana.

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Miley Stewart had a happy family. They had hard times, and went through troubles like everyone else. However, they were happy as long as they stayed together. They went through hardships, they went through danger, they went through invasions of fire ants, but despite living in a perilous world they had each other watching their backs. They were a happy, loyal family. And Miley was part of this loving family.

Above all Miley trusted her mother, Brooke Stewart. Life was simple down in the small Tennessee county. They milked the cows in Uncle Earl's farm together (suffering together should Uncle Earl himself be there: B.O. is taken to a whole new level with Uncle Earl in the house), they fought the annual fire ant invasion together, they went shopping together (the boys are nowhere to be seen), Brooke always did Miley's hair in the mornings before school (pigtails were her specialty), she would co-write Miley's songs, and when Miley when to her mom for advice (even elementary school was not a walk in the park), Brooke was always there to provide adequate support.

On one occasion, Miley's best friend Eloise died tragically, having been ran over and gored to death by a escaped crazed bull from her farm. It was a classified freak accident. Miley was inconsolable for days, but all this time Brooke had been her best friend. She broke through Miley's wall of misery in a way only a woman could. For hours on end she would spend her time locked in Miley's room holding her, stroking her hair gently, telling her many stories and experiences of their extensive family.

"_Miley, did you know your Aunt Dolly lost her best friend too when she was your age?"_

"_No mommy. Did she cry?"_

"_Everyone cries when they've lost someone dear. But Aunt Dolly was strong and smart. She accepted it and moved on with her life and now you usually see her as happy as a fly in a pigsty."_

"_How did she die?"_

"_She got ran over like a rag doll by a tractor, according to Dolly. Scary."_

"_That's so sad..."_

_Miley's eyes slid out of her mother's gaze, welling up slowly. Brooke gathered her little daughter into her warm arms and hugged her close, projecting heat and affection into the cold hopelessness that inhabited Miley's heart._

"_You know a blade of grass gets stepped on everyday, she gets eaten every now and then, she goes through rain and fire, but as long as her roots are still alive, so is she. And she will rise from the ashes once more. Aunt Dolly was like that blade of grass. You should be her too. Eloise would have wanted you to be like Dolly."_

"_Oh mommy..."_

_Miley began to cry. Tears of earnest, tears of sorrow._

"_Hush. Hush, baby."_

"_I'm...just...feeling so sad about this."_

"_Hush. Don't cry. I'm here, baby."_

_Miley cuddled closer to her mother, burying her head into her mother's chest, embracing the warmth radiating from her golden heart of compassion. She purred contentedly when her mother began gently stroking her hair, the way she does it whenever Miley needed comforting. Brooke began humming an ancient lullaby to soothe the wounds of torn souls, constantly whispering "hush, baby, hush." to quieten down her tiny daughter's sobbing._

_"I love you, Mommy..."_

_Miley soon felt a blanket of peace cover her. She fell asleep at last, having found serenity and peace of mind, knowing that her warm guardian was always watching her. Her sobs ceased, replaced by deep breathing. While she slept, Brooke saw the first smile in days appeared on Miley's small tear-streaked face._

_Closing the door behind her, Brooke said in a hushed voice to her helpless husband in the living room, "Shh. She's sleeping."_

"_Miley?"_

"_She won't be crying anymore, honey."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_It's just a matter of a little lady-to-lady talk. No need to thank me, Robbie Ray."_

"_She must love you lots sweetie."_

The bond between mother and daughter was stronger than any glue on Earth.

Miley also, in return, took the leading role in nursing her mother when she was ill. Even when she herself caught her mother's chickenpox. Despite battling a raging fever of thirty-nine degrees, Miley struggled to get out of bed and help her mother, who was in a (in her opinion) more serious pickle. It was her turn to look after her guardian angel.

"_Miley you should have some rest! You can't be running around when you're down with chickenpox!"_

"_I'm not DOWN yet mommy. And besides, since we're both sick, who can take care of you better than I do? They'll just catch it anyway."_

"_I don't think you should over-exert yourself."_

"_I believe it's my turn to help you." said Miley firmly, with a note of finality._

_Brooke smiled at her daughter._

"_I love you sweetie."_

"_Thanks mommy."_

_Miley set the tray carrying a glass of water and some bread down of the little table beside her mother's bed, and helped her mom with a gulp of water as she struggled to get up from the bedridden position._

Again, the bond between mother and daughter cannot be weaker than any grip on Earth, not even Jackson's grip on the last chocolate bar as he frantically wrestled with his father. They were simply an inseparable duo. Brooke became Miley's guardian angel, always rushing to her rescue when needed, always dependable. She understood the child's mind perfectly, and never at any time did she and Miley have a dispute, or a fight. It was simply unimaginable.

But Destiny wills it that they would be torn apart in the most brutal fashion. Alas, the innocent must always suffer...

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(Just some recollections about the Stewarts' past; nothing to do with tragedy)

_It was a beautiful day on the massive golden plains, a million suns smiling at the sky. Two girls were playing in the middle of the sunflower field, their laughter carried into the gentle warm breeze blowing across the countryside. Nothing could go wrong on such a lovely day, in such a beautiful moment._

_Unless..._

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"_

_A terrible scream rippled through the air like a siren. Brooke immediately charged into the sunflower field, running towards the two girls. One was crying and squeezing her right upper arm, the other was panicking._

_"Help! Help! Somebody help!" Miley was screaming in desperate tears, clearly at a loss for what to do._

_"Luann! Sweet nibblets, what happened?" Brooke shouted, rushing over to the girl's side. Luann's arm revealed a bee sting embedded deep into her skin, the entrails of the bee still attached to the sting, pulsating sickeningly._

_"Help me! Help me! It's killed me, auntie! It's killed me!" Luann screamed, losing her head. Miley thrashed about in panic, as if empathatically feeling her cousin's pain._

_"It's this thing, Mommy!" Miley cried between choking tears, pointing at the fallen body of the dead bee. "This really big yellow thing just flew onto her arm and then it stung her and made her scream!"_

_Luann kept insisting the bee had killed her, all the more making Miley freak out. Brooke had to do something quick. "Come with me, Miley. We're going back in." She said simply, carrying Luann back into the house, Miley close behind her, as if afraid of more bees._

_"It's killed me! Help! It's killed me!"_

_When Brooke reached the door, she heard a dull thud behind her. Miley had keeled over into a dead faint, the shock too much for her to take at once._

_"Oh sweet nibblets. Hey Bobby Ray! Come here and help!"_

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This chapter describes the relationship between Miley and her (fictional) mom. Not much happened in this chapter but I must advice readers to not just read and understand, but _**feel the closeness**_ of the two characters. It is important to play the scene out in the head like a movie, experiencing the scene personally; the emotions, the warmth, the contentment. I get to chapter two immediately tomorrow. Please tell me how you think of this meanwhile.

Terrorking Tragedian

_Edit on 18 July 2007: I've made some additional parts in this chapter. You'll also notice that I've improved the entire thing quite a lot. But I felt that the integrity of this first chapter should not be jeopardised, even if it is only 4 pages long. It's my first ever written chapter for and I should honor it._

_Further edit on 7 Sep 2007: More major edits to this chapter, this time lengthening it a bit. I hope it proves satisfactory. There is not much I can add to this chapter, really._


	2. Destiny's Twist

As you know, I promised to start a new chapter with progress in the story. Thanks very much to the reviewers ForbiddenxMelody and Carelys. This is where it all begins. The first chapter was a description of the character's relationship; I was unable to do more because it was 3.30am where I live. I advice readers to listen to Orff's O Fortuna from his opera Carmina Burana. Dunno why it helps. Shall we get on then?

Disclaimer: Actually this was not stated in the guidelines, so I guess everyone just KNOWS about this. I do not own Hannah Montana.

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It was another sultry afternoon down in Tennessee, and Miley Stewart, with springs under her feet, happily skipped home. Inside the small girl, her heart was bursting with joy and triumph, with every beat it radiated optimism and happiness, so much so that the energy filled her head to toe. She wore a sunny smile on her bright face, perhaps sunnier than usual. Her long pigtails danced in pace with her quick-skipping footsteps, and with every pace, she swung her arms joyfully, casting her hands high into the air, flinging her little fingers into the four winds. She was the right picture of joy and innocence.

_Yes! Yes! Yes! I win at last! WOOHOO! _Inside her head, a song of triumph played, and celebrations was all that was in her mind at the time.

Class president elections were always a fiasco, and it was only this year that Miley got herself involved in the running. After a week of hard work, helped by her mother, it was the day of judgment. And who knew that Miley the dark horse would become the class president?

"_Mary Pat. Mary Pat. Mary Pat. Mary Pat. Mary Pat."_

_Not good. The first five votes are for Mary Pat. Not good at all._

"_Mary Pat. Mary Pat. Mary Pat."_

_My heart was thumping wildly, so violently that I could have sworn a couple of ribs had been broken. I began playing with my fingers nervously and breaking out a sweat._

"_Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Mary Pat. Mary Pat."_

_Yes! Yes! There's my name being called three times! After a constant fall of votes calling "Mary Pat", "Miley Stewart" sounded like music to my ears._

"_Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Mary Pat. Miley Stewart."_

_The tick-tock sounds of the clock got louder and louder. I began to feel very warm around the collar, and tiny beads of nervous sweat began to descend from the sides of my forehead. Feeling very jumpy and a little scared, I pulled at the starchy collar before it suffocated me, feeling my heart up in my throat._

" _Miley Stewart. Mary Pat. Miley Stewart. Mary Pat. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart!"_

_Even the judge who did the counting was astounded as he picked up the next few votes. The consecutive TEN votes were for me. As I waited the last vote to be tallied, I could feel the tingling excitement begin to spread from my toes to the rest of my body, filling me with pleasant warmth in spite of the nervous heat I generated. I also began to shake with anticipation._

"_Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart. Miley Stewart! And we have a winner! Miley Stewart wins by ten votes!"_

_An explosion took place in the hall._

"_WOOHOO! YEAH!"_

_Most of the fourth graders who supported me went wild with joy. There was a great whoop in the audience, and as my supporters cheered me on, our teacher led me to the central podium to deliver my speech of appreciation. My stomach instant started jumping wildly in excitement, and I could feel a deep vivid flush paint my face red as beetroot. Mary Pat shook my hand warmly and sincerely, like a good sport, and even cheered with the crowd as I was led to the podium!_

_I could not have imagined a happier time in my life._

"_So, Miss Miley Stewart, what have you got to say to your supporters?" One of the judges asked._

_I looked at every expectant face in the eager audience of fourth-graders, feeling the immense pressure that came after the burst of joy. Every eye was on me; every ear was poised to hear my thanking speech._

_I couldn't do it. The pleasant but huge shock of it all rocked me to the core. Unable to stop myself, I burst into tears in front of the audience._

_A dead silence descended on everyone in the hall._

_At this point I swore I could have died of the extreme embarrassment. I made futile attempts to stop, but every time I tried to stop, I just unleashed another wave of tears. I was too choked up on tears to say a word._

_After thirty seconds, however, my crying seemed to have become a satisfactory speech, and with another thunderous roll of applause and cheers, everyone marked the moment: Miley Stewart, new class president._

Miley reminisced in the nervous nail-biting excitement as the judges tallied the votes, and with every time her name was called, she felt a jolt somewhere behind her navel, and when the judge called out Mary Pat's name EIGHT times in a row, Miley swore she felt her stomach turn into ice. How wonderful it must have felt to have heard "Miley Stewart wins by ten votes. Congratulations to our new class president!"! The emotions running through her body like rabid twins in an apartment, one called relief, and the other, paradoxically, called sheer joy of victory, reaching even the toes, causing them to tingle like as if they were numb. Miley even burst into tears in front of the class in thanks!

_Heh. Embarrassing_. Miley cringed at the not-so-dignifying thought.

"Howdy Miley! Yer dad just went ter a football game with yer brother Jackson. I saw'em!"

"Thanks Aunt Clara!" She called to a woman across the street. So that would be Mom home alone. Oh well, the boys will know about this later.

She made her way to the grocery store to fetch some eggs. The produce and products of Mr Baggins' were always the freshest. Greeting Miley with a jovial smile, he directed her towards the eggs and milk.

"Good afternoon, Miley! I see you're happier than you usually are today."

"Thanks, Mr Baggins. Guess what?! I won the class president election! WOOHOO!" Miley punched the air triumphantly, bursting with excitement and unable to hold it within her for another moment.

"Well, jolly good! Congratulations! Er-hem, okay, the eggs are over there. And help yourself to the milk bottles at the shelf over there."

Miley skipped off to fetch the groceries. Moments later, she boomeranged back to Mr Baggins at the cashier counter.

"Thanks Mr Baggins!" Miley chirped.

"I pleasure, Miley. Now, you'd better hurry home and celebrate with your family! I'm sure they would love to hear the -"

**BOOM!**

He hardly had the time to finish his sentence; for suddenly, the entire street shook with the sound of an explosion coming from...the east! The Stewarts' estate! Miley whipped her gaze out of the window in surprise.

And gasped in horror as she watched the billowing columns of smoke and the glow emitted from an inferno. Outside, the entire street was mystified.

"Little girl! Where're yer goin'? Don'cha want yer eggs and milk? Come back!"

The door of the store swung shut violently, the bell hanging from it still ringing ominously.

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Without second thought, Miley raced homeward, her feet carrying her like a feather, charging off homeward as though she were a bullet fired off a gun. Soon she saw herself competing with fire engines, sirens wailing, signaling an incoming battle.

_GOD! What's happening? Please let mommy be save! Mommy!_ Thoughts ran through her mind as she dashed for home. All feeling of joy escaped her; all triumphant thought left her. All she cared about was running. Running to investigate. Running to see her mother. Butterflies, whatever they were, burst into life in her stomach. _What's a stomach anyway? I'm feeling funny, coming from my tummy. I can't be thinking this! I need to find mommy! Mommy! Where are you?_

Soon she lost track of time. How long had she been running? It felt like five hours! Maybe it was already a day. Who cares! She wondered if she was headed in the right direction. Maybe she missed already! Maybe she passed it without knowing! Heck! Heck! HECK!

_No no. Mustn't panic. Must calm down. Breathe in...breathe out. There. All better. WHAT AM I DOING?! MOMMY! MOMMY? I'M COMING!_

Home never felt that far away.

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Then, even her soul shook at the sight that laid before her.

Despite the utter shock taking control of her, she could vaguely make out that the ruins is, no, WAS, her home. She saw Jackson's baseball bat amongst the wreckage. She saw her teddy bears strewn all over the wastes. She saw the kitchen sink, the the rest was obscured by the boiling inferno.

Her mind went numb. Miley just stood there, watching the flames consume everything in sight. She did not feel the intense heat starting towards her. She felt...only shock. Nothing but horror.

Paralyzed in shock, she failed to hear or notice the fire engines coming, or giant black-faced figure carrying her from the fire, shouting over the screams of people, "Get outta there little girl!" **(A/N No racist remark intended.)**

Still, despite being unaware to everything, she watched the crowd, scanning for anyone who was the likeliness of her mom. Looking for her, wishing that she would charge out of the crowd, screaming "My baby!" and embracing her reassuringly. Now she was frantic. The butterflies in her tummy were replaced by a writhing snake in pure agony, and she felt hot in spite of the heat.

Then she saw the support columns, each ablaze in flames, collapse. The entire structure fell with a resounding bang. The giant man yelled, "Run fools! Run! Get the hoses!" The collapsing building emitted BOOM BAM BANGs that would have made a person a kilometre away think a bomb had just went off.

"Gas explosion, sir!"

"Do something, fool! Rescue the survivors!"

Then she heard a sound that chilled her to the core, freezing her blood, and stopping her frantic heart for a few seconds.

An ear-splitting scream was heard from the wreckage. A scream of agony, of horror, and of doom. Echoing across the crowd, silenced it effectively and completely.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Everything on Miley's body turned into ice. Now she was beginning to feel a blizzard, not an inferno. She felt her breath grow shallow, and quicken. She did not sense any heartbeat. All of the sudden, a blanket of one thousand tons fell on her. Her knees buckled, and unable to take the stress, she collapsed on them, shivering all the time.

Her knees did not feel like they hit solid ground. They were numb too. She started feeling clammy.

Then she heard Jackson yell from a distance, "Miles! What happened?!"

She felt a reassuring hand around her shoulder, and turned to see her pale-faced father. Robbie Ray flinched upon feeling her ice-cold skin, and looked saddened to see her in such a pitiful state. Heck, she was having trouble breathing!

"You okay, darlin'?"

"..."

"Jackson stay here and watch yer sister."

He then went on to fruitlessly call into the fire, "Darlin'! DARLIN!"

Jackson meanwhile tended to his pale-faced sister who looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Miles! Can you hear me?"

"...gasp..."

"MILES! MILEY! You're all clammy! What's up with you?"

"...can't...breathe..."

Every word was exceedingly laborious to say. In fact, she was not sure she knew how to talk. She just stared, and stared, and stared. She wanted nothing but to stare at the flames, and had no wish to know why. All seems blank...

Then she realised that she was incredibly thirsty. What's up with that? She should be doing something...

She started going deaf. A malicious and menacing ringing sprung into her consciousness and filled up the space in her head. There was a confusing miasma of voices sounding all at once, echoing around the halls of her mind...

"Darlin'!? Where are you?! Honey?!"

"Dad help! I think Miley's in shock!"

"BROOKE! BROOKE!"

"Sir! Stay away from there! There has been some gas explosion!"

"GERROFF ME! Brooke! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"_Face it Miley. She's gone. Your mommy's gone..._"

"...no..."

"_Aw...what are you going to do? Cry? This time no one's there for you..._"

"...no...no...NO!!!"

"_She's dead...she's dead...she's dead...hahahahahhaha..._"

"NO NO NO NO NO!!! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD!!"

_"Why wouldn't she be? Didn't you hear the scream?__"_

"SHE CAN'T BE DEAD!!! I WON'T BELIEVE IT!!"

"The ambulance is here!"

The shrill wailing of sirens had arrived on the battlefield.

"...mommy..."

As comprehension slowly dawned on Jackson and Robbie Ray, so did the first teardrops descend from Miley's beautiful grey eyes. A distance away their father was on his knees, singing his own song of denial and shock.

"...mommy...MOMMY! MOMMY!"

Miley had recovered from her state of shock, only to enter a state of denial. She totally understood what happened...there was a gas explosion...the building collapsed, and their mother was buried in their own house, burning, until a column fell and...and..._that scream was Mommy's..._

Her throat burst open with cries of grief and screams of sorrow. The malicious ringing in her ears had infected her brain, and every part of her body regained their ability to move, only to make futile attempts to struggle against Jackson's grip.

"Miles! There is nothing we can do now!"

"NO! MOMMY'S STILL IN THERE! I HEARD HER!"

"She's gone, Miley! Control yourself!"

"COME BACK MOMMY! COME BACK! GET OUT OF THE FIRE!"

"Stop! Stop it, Miles! You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"GET OUT OF THE FIRE!! HURRY!!"

"MILEY! STOP!" Jackson bellowed. Miley was breaking free from her older brother's iron grip, scratching her hands horrendously against the gravel and rocks of the dusty ground.

"MOMMY! MOMMY!"

Her voice grew hoarse, her throat might have started bleeding from all the screaming, but she didn't care. All she needed was her mother back. She had not heard the news from Miley about the class president elections yet...

"**MOMMY! MOMMY! COME BACK! MOMMYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"**

Amidst the screaming and the odd ringing, she heard a higher pitched voice calling her from somewhere.

"Miley! Miley!"

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Yeah hah! I've been wanting to write this down for a long time! This chapter tells about how a happy day can turn sour, and change your life. I worked on this for half a day, and I'M LOVIN' IT! Enjoy yourself, and remember once again to live the scene, not just read it. _**Feel **_the emotion, and _**imagine**_ how it would have been like had this been on TV.

I will get to work on chapter 3 immediately meanwhile. Please R&R!

Terrorking Tragedian

_Edit on 18 July 2007: Another chapter where I made small additions and editions to improve the quality of the overall. I felt the importance to preserve the original integrity of this beauty, but felt that certain amendments must be made. You notice anything? Anyway, enjoy._

_Further edit on 7 Sep 2007: When I re-read the whole thing, I decided I rather disliked the way this chapter ended, despite it being my long-awaited dream when I only started writing on this website. Maybe I should rewrite the whole thing; there was not much for me to edit, actually. But it was definitely an improvement._


	3. Night of Nightmares

Chapter 3 has begun! And from here on I will require help regarding how this story should continue. Please help me through the reviews. Don't worry I am not completely clueless as to how this story should go. I write because I was unable to find entertainment, so I make entertainment. Please do not suggest a romance-themed story; to that I will not comply, for romance is not my style. I will however make it rather realistic by putting in a Miley and Jake pairing. Ugh, I hate myself just for that. If I think of more, or if people press on harder, I will add more pairings. (Just remember, Oliver's feelings towards Miley are totally platonic.) You see, I generally prefer suffering in my characters. This chapter will include a re-enactment of a scene from Hannah Montana.

And as a note to all readers, I usually do not allow errors in my stories and am very particular about small errors. Having spotted one in the first chapter, it would take a great deal of effort to forgive myself. I hope you will do so as well.

Disclaimer: I own as much of Hannah Montana as I own the land of Shu in the Chinese Three Kingdoms era. Oh wait, that was 1800 years ago...

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"Miley! Miley! Wake up!"

"MOMMY! MOMMY COME BACK! DON'T LEAVE ME MOMMY! MOMMYYYYY!!!"

"Miley wake up! MILEY!"

"COME BACK MOMMY!"

"Miley it's just a dream! Wake up!"

"NO MOMMY! MOMMY! PLEASE!'

"Shut up loser! Some people need to sleep!"

"MOMMY! COME BACK!!"

"MILEY!"

Miley's screams were ear-splitting and full of pain and anguish, as if invisible tormentors were bearing down upon her. She writhed and thrashed around like wounded snake, many times hitting Lilly in the face. Lilly, meanwhile, frantically tried to free her best friend from the nightmarish prison. Shaking and screaming had no effect however.

"Miley! Wake up!" Lilly desperately shouted at her friend in pain to no avail. Then, hating herself, she slapped Miley across the face.

"AHHH-HAH!"

Miley Stewart awoke with a scream. Still unable to differentiate between reality and dream, completely disoriented and very very frightened, she sat up like a spring and clung on to the closest thing to her, Lilly, like a koala bear, as if her life depended on it.

Lilly felt the blow knock all the air out of her, and hastily tried to reassure her anxious friend squeezing her like a boa constrictor. Miley was crying uncontrollably, shaking from head to toe.

"I want my mommy! No! Mommy! Come back!"

"It'll be okay, Miley, just a dream, just a dream." Lilly put her arms around Miley and whispered in a soothing but shaking voice.

Miley did not seem to hear. She was now no longer crying her lungs out, but that was because she was running out of air. Instead she resorted to sobbing uncontrollably on Lilly's shoulder. With each gasp, her ribs buckled, pain amplified by the raging emotions. Resounding through her brain was a desperate scream, "Mommy come back to us! Why did you have to go?" She so wanted to release that terrible pain. Please! Lord! Make it stop! Can't You tell it's gnawing at my insides? Can't You stop it? Lord help!

Lilly must have sensed the inner turmoil as she gently stroked Miley's hair to reassure her, the way her mother did so long ago.

Amber and Ashley were not at all pleased.

"Okay. First, WIERD. What teenager still cries for her mommy?" Amber said in a annoyingly obnoxious voice, peppered with malice.

"And second, Awww!" Ashley stressed it by pretending to have earache. "Unlike dorks like you, some people need their beauty sleep."

Lilly felt murderous boiling rage coarse through her veins, but knew better than to throttle the duo and shut their mouthes for the rest of the week; right now, her best friend needed her more than ever. Instead she gave them a menacing look, and spat with pure venom in her voice, "Shut it you two!"

Miley meanwhile was still clinging onto Lilly tightly, and now started to mumble "Mommy...mommy..." in between outbreaks of sobs.

Growling fiercely at a pair of complaining snobs while trying to comfort an inconsolable friend was an awkward situation to be in. Luckily, Oliver appeared at the door of their tent to relieve the siege.

They were at a camping trip in the Malibu countryside. After a long day of hiking, they've earned a good rest. Until three in the morning.

"Girls, you gotta keep it down! People start to think someone's been robbed!" Oliver could not contain a note of annoyance in his voice.

"Oliver, in case you haven't noticed!" Lilly glared at his lack of observation skills and pointed at Miley. Amber and Ashley were backing away from them, with a look of "Ew! Surrounded by weirdos!"

"Oh Miley! What happened?!" Oliver was dumbstruck upon noticing Miley in a pitiful state.

"Bad dream, Oliver. Couldn't you tell?"

"Had too much spaghetti?"

"OLIVER!"

"Okay okay! Can I help?"

Boys were getting up and groaning at this interruption of their sleep, and soon the whole camp was stirring. The teacher-in-charge, amongst all, was irate.

"DAMN IT! I DON'T HAVE MY OWN BATHROOM AND NOW I CAN'T HAVE MY SLEEP!? I'LL KILL THAT BANSHEE WHEREVER IT IS!!!"

Lilly looked scornfully at Teacher hollering into the woods and muttered, "Bastard." Soon boys and girls alike surrounded the seeming source of the noise. Embarrassing indeed. But Miley had not a care in the world save getting her mother back.

It took a full ten minutes before Miley effectively calmed down, during that time Teacher took a sleeping pill and the crowd dispersed, swearing and grumbling. She felt both hot and cold, like she just came out of a rainstorm and felt like fainting. Shivering slightly, suddenly comprehension crashed upon her: how the victory at school went and felt...how she skipped back home joyfully...the horror upon seeing the smoke and the inferno...the terror and the frantic thoughts as she made a mad dash for home...shock overcoming her as she watched her house burn...the futile rescue...the unholy scream that cut through the air and struck the crowd dumb with fright (an intense shiver ran down her spine as she recollected)...Jackson and Dad came in from the game only to be struck like she was...falling on to her knees and experiencing the dreadful effects of momentary utterly paralyzing shock...her dad's desperate attempts to get her mother out of there...the nasty little voice at the back of her head...and finally comprehension. Miley remembered how she finally realised that her mother had tragically perished in the flames, and the wrestling against Jackson trying to restrain her from rushing into the flames herself.

Miley's eyes threatened to leak when she remembered more: how she got on all fours screaming herself hoarse...refusing to accept that her mommy was now in the House of God...pounding the ground with her fists till they bled...clutching her chest as she felt a terrible piercing pain shoot into her heart...and their dad also getting on his knees, singing his own song of grief...then she saw the fireman bring out a black mass...a charred corpse...of their beloved...it can't be...

At this Miley let out another wail of misery as Lilly and Oliver wrapped their arms around and tried to shush her. Miley did not care that she was behaving and being treated like a very young child. It was just a nightmare, after all.

"Just a dream, Miley, just a dream..."

"Shush...shush..."

But it was not JUST a nightmare. In fact it was a recurring nightmare, returning to haunt her on many nights. And usually she had no one to cry to when she awoke with a jolt, hence resorting to talk to Beary, one of the few dolls that survived the catastrophe. Beary happened to be at Aunt Dolly's house during the cataclysmic chain of events, and was the only friend she could talk to on the nights she was attacked. Sometimes, she would go down to the balcony and strum her guitar softly, singing to the heavens, wishing her mother would hear her. Sometimes she would just cry herself to sleep again, provided it was not morning already. She thought she might crack under all this stress. They were so close, yet so ruthlessly torn apart...

The dream, chillingly accurate, was really a replay of what happened that fateful day. The nasty voice at the back of her head insisted on reminding her almost nightly what had happened. As a result, there were no fantasies, no coloration and all emotions packed and unleashed with maximum brutality and force. And the scream was the most frightening part of all.

Lilly and Oliver knew about her problem getting over the fourth stage of her grief. Constantly she reminded herself the words her mother spoke before, "You know a blade of grass gets stepped on everyday, she gets eaten every now and then, she goes through rain and fire, but as long as her roots are still alive, so is she. And she will rise from the ashes once more. Aunt Dolly was that blade of grass. You should be her too. Eloise would have wanted you to be like Dolly." And yet, she never got to working against that awful pain.

She remembered when she sat next to Luann the pig, watching her scoff the slops in the trough, and Aunt Dolly came to her, saying, "Miles, I'm so sorry, dear. Beary's safe dear. You can talk to him." Pain was so fresh, and her mother was not there to relieve it, she thought she died of all that. It was only a day after the horrible incident. For a month she lost her voice, whether to lack of use or damage to her vocal chords she did not care.

No one could get to Miley better than Brooke, not even Aunt Dolly, Mamaw Stewart, the boys, or Uncle Earl. She was all alone.

She remembered losing all control over her emotions and bawled her head off at Brooke Stewart's funeral. Then, after quieting down in order to speak in front of the funeral crowd, she sang a song of lament instead. The song "I miss you" was co-written by Brooke, and Miley deemed it worthy to be sung at its writer's departure. She remembered the sad and yet jubilant clapping from the crowd, with a fine gentleman in the crowd (WAS THAT UNCLE EARL?!!) shouting, "Well sung Miley! Spoken like a true daughter of our dear departed!"

She remembered the lowering of the coffin, the gravestone planted there, reading:

_Brooke Stewart_

_With a overwhelming sense of warmth, compassion_

_and kindness_

_Tragically taken from us to the House of God_

_Loving husband and mother_

_A greatest loss to all_

Miley added the following:

_Her daughter,_

_The one will miss her most and will be missed by her most_

No one denied it.

She then remembered how she had to move to Malibu, having been unable to take the hollowness any longer during their stay in Tennessee, starting life afresh. Here she met her new best friends Lilly and Oliver, friends whom no one else could hope for. They helped her with her problems, and over the years the pain slowly began to wear off. In time grief existed in the nightmares only, though sometimes she brought herself to a brink of tears.

In time, Aunt Dolly even told her, "Brooke would've wanted you to do just as you would have had she still been here. Your life has just begun." And from then on, she became Hannah Montana, privately looking to her mother for blessings, and putting up a confident facade that slowly fused with her private life as Miley Stewart. But inside, the pain would refresh, torturing her the moment it sensed that she had forgotten about it. Lilly (as Lola) once, twice caught her crying in the bathroom, getting her blonde wig all wet. Twice at school, again in the toilets. Many times Miley would seem sad and withered, then perk right up again, all energetic. But all that was a facade.

It took half an hour of consolation before Miley calmed down enough to get back to sleep. Oliver double checked whether everything was alright before retiring, and Lilly stood watch as Miley's new guardian. It was one of the rare opportunities for many to witness the strength of their friendship.

Miley seemed alright next day during the descent, albeit slightly tired-looking. As they headed back to Malibu, life returned to its normal state. As in, normal for Miley anyway, with only Beary to talk to...

_Oh Miley! Have you gotten over it already? Sweetie, you must learn to let go...don't dwell on me anymore, and move on with your life. I will watch you._

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Remind me to continue tomorrow about the times she "brought herself to a brink of tears". Worked on this day till night, and STILL LOVIN' IT! Ran out of gas halfway through, but got it to an end at last.

Once more, imagine the pain as Miley thought about the separation between her and her mother, whom she was most attached to. Ouch. I know I can. A new useful tip: reminiscence about the past is best pictured in the mind with the younger Miley Cyrus in your mind acting the scene out than the Miley Cyrus you see today (as at 2007). And honestly, I must say that reviewers put a big smile on my face, and I will continue to serve these people while entertaining myself. They are the people who fuel me. Good bye for now.

Terrorking Tragedian


	4. Betrayal

This is the fourth chapter. I swear this will be the last chapter on recollections before moving on with the real story, though I might deviate from actual show Hannah Montana a little because I have not watched season two of Hannah Montana yet. Then again that is the point of fan fiction, but I like to somehow keep this as canon as possible. This chapter would be re-enactments of some (in my opinion, badly done due to too little drama) scenes in Hannah Montana season 1.

Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Hannah Montana. I also do not own the song "I Miss You" by Miley Cyrus nor any of its lyrics.

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"How could you."

"Miley..."

Miley began to stride resolutely out of the office with a voice heaving with emotion. People watched in fascination as Hannah Montana marched out, with a look of utmost outrage and melancholia on her pallid face.

"How did you find out?"

Robbie knew that somehow, he had touched a nerve.

"Well you didn't tell me." Miley replied with a shaking and accusing voice.

"I can explain." Robbie Ray futilely tried to justify himself.

The audience was completely bewildered at the sight of this. Hannah Montana having a quiet row with a man that she happens to know? What's happening?

"Well explain this. Why are you dating without telling me? Explain that how is it that you thought you could find someone who could ever replace my mom!"

Robbie Ray was tongue-tied. His daughter let out a dry sob.

Then, on a brink of tears, Miley charged out of the building, leaving her father standing there struggling to digest what had just happened. The entire office was staring silently.

Jackson, dressed as Hannah's chauffeur, emerged from behind the cupboard, and with a glance to his father, said, "That was awkward."

Robbie Ray was at a complete loss to say anything. _How did she find out? Why did I wait so long biding my time? Did I know it might amount to such a disaster? What was she doing here anyway?_

"C'mon Jackson," he said monotonously to his son hiding behind the cupboard. _I'm gonna have to talk to that little girl._

Meanwhile Miley ran all the way back home, forgetting to remove her Hannah disguise. People stared in awe and disbelief as the teen pop-sensation flew past them like the wind, her golden hair trailing behind her like a silky flag. Miley attempted to stifle her sobs and stem the flow of tears from her leaking eyes. Yet she did not care when clicks were heard and flashes appeared at the corner of her eyes. _Let them_ _take pictures. Let them! Let them know that Hannah Montana has lost her mommy and can't deal with it. LET THEM!!_

All she cared about was getting home quick, getting away from that traitor she calls her father. He who betrayed the memory of her mother and his wife.

She was sure she heard Oliver cry, "Miley!" as she sped past him. She did not notice him there, nor did she see anyone. The tears were beginning to blind her; she only charged in the direction she thought would lead her home.

Her heart felt like it was wearing a super heavy and overly tight armor, threatening to give out. She felt ready to burst into tears. _I gotta get home quick! This is SO embarrassing!_

"HANNAH MONTANA! LOOK! IT'S HANNAH MONTANA!"

She would not be surprised if an entire mob was chasing her down now. _Damn! Why the hell did I charge off by myself?! Why the hell did I forget this wig?!_

Humiliation and regret piling on her misery, she increased the pace at which she was running. Losing track of time, somehow she reached the door of her house. Her heart finally gave in, and she collapsed on the floor in a heap, completely exhausted. At the same time it was there when she whipped off her wig and burst into tears.

"Miley!" Oliver caught up from behind, also panting like a dog.

She took no notice. Her loud wails and sobs were heart-rending to hear. In spite of himself, he collected her shaking body into his arms and held her close to his chest, trying to console her with a soothing reassuring voice.

"It's okay Miles. It's okay. I'm here for you."

"Oliver..." Miley's voice was barely audible. _Does he know what I'm going through right now? Is he here just to tease me for what happened just now? _

"Oliver...sniff...I'm s-s-sorry..." she gasped. Oliver tightened his grip around Miley.

"Come. Let's get you in." He hoisted her up on her feet. She seemed to have lost control of her leg muscles; she was like a bean bag, refusing to move on her own.

Turning around to check and make sure no one's following them, and that there is no crowd screaming "HANNAH MONTANA!!", he wrenched open the door and steered the still-sobbing Miley in, picking up the abandoned wig from the floor.

Having been set on the sofa, Miley then bit her fist to stop her crying, but otherwise made no attempt to stifle her sobbing. Oliver stared at his best friend for a long while, thinking what to say. The sight of her, jerking and gasping trying to breathe, rocking back and forth in response to the intense pain in her chest, was enough to make anyone start crying in pity. Oliver once again put his hands on Miley's little shoulders and said, "It's alright, Miley. You can tell me what happened."

Her beautiful grey eyes were sparkling with tears, a small stream still flowing out of her eyes. Yet behind the waterfall was an empty cave, dull and soulless, cloaked by misery.

"Oliver...th-thank you...but I-I don't think...hiccup...you'll u-understand..."

"Hey I'm not that much a donut as you think I am you know." he said in a light tone.

Miley giggled a little and put on a toothy grin. She stopped crying, but she had had the hiccups you usually get after a really good cry. _Oliver was truly a great friend, to show so much care to me._

"But really, Oliver...hiccup...I d-d-don't th-think...you'll understand...hiccup...

I don't...want...to...hiccup...talk about it right now..." her voice trailed away in nothingness. Oliver nodded in comprehension.

"So if you need anything..."

"No, no, I'll be fine, Oliver."

"Okay."

"Thanks Oliver." Miley smiled, pulling a cushion into her arms.

Oliver sighed in relief, glad that the storm clouds have dissipated. Saying a somewhat reluctant goodbye to Miley, he left the house, brows knotted into a frown in worry. _What happened to her? I better tell Lilly._

"Hey Ollie Trolley! You seen Miles?" It was Robbie Ray calling him from his car. Jackson and Robbie were apparently on their way home.

"Yeah Mr S! Miley's at home!" Oliver called out at him. Robbie gave a nod of acknowledgment and drove on. Jackson, sitting beside him, called out a thanks. As they drove past.

"No problem, man!"

Oliver then made his way home.

Miley did not want to confront her father after what happened and resorted to making herself scarce by hiding in her room, locking the door. Robbie Ray, now feeling very guilty and sorry, knocked at her door three times with no response.

"I'm sorry, Mile. I'm sorry. Will you please come out?"

Silence.

_Argh. I did get her into this mess. I suppose I'd talk to her when she feels like it then...sigh..._

Miley, meanwhile, prostrated herself on her bed, staring at the photo next to her bed; a photo showing Miley and her mother wearing sunny smiles standing in front of their barn, and relived the moments they've had together as mother and daughter...

Upon thinking of the disastrous incident, Miley's eyes started to leak again, wetting her pillow with salty dew...

_How long am I going to keep this up?_

**That night...**

_I miss you_

_I miss your smile_

_And I shed a tear_

_Every once in a while_

_And even though it's different now_

_you're still here somehow_

_My heart won't let you go_

_And I need you to know_

_I miss you_

_Shalalalala_

_I miss you_

Staring into the heavens, she sang a song of lament, a song she wrote for that funeral. The words flowed out of her mouth naturally, and her fingers tenderly stroked the guitar in perfect harmony. For it was a song she practiced every time she woke up from her dreams at night. She sang it again and again, hoping her mother would hear her at last.

The sky was dark, cold winds blew on the beach and caressed her face as the sea roiled up its soft and stirring waves. The sound of the sea, the wind. Other than that, all was silent.

Silent. Just like her heart, her mind, and the deck she sat in. Miley slowly raised a palm into the sky.

"Oh mommy...why did you have to leave us so suddenly?"

She began the first of sobs in hours.

Then behind her, a heavy but warm voice inquired, "That was a beautiful song honey."

She hastily tried to hide her tears, but her cracked voice gave it away. "Dad?"

Her father sat down beside her on the bench, staring out into the dark horizon. Miley turned away from him, partly because she wanted to hide the sparkling tears, and also because she had not forgiven him for his betrayal.

"I like to come out here at night. It's a good place to figure things out." Robbie Ray's voice was soft and careful.

"Maybe we could figure things out together." he continued, watching the back of her head.

After a pause Miley asked him the question she had been dying to ask, but was not in the condition to do so.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She remembered when Jackson and her witnessed their father meet with Margo Diamond on the movie night only yesterday. Lost for words, all she could say as they hid behind the cardboard poster was, "I...I don't believe it...". Jackson apparently did not know of the knife that suddenly stabbed her squarely in her heart.

"Me too. My old man can get a date but I can't?!" he said incredulously.

Miley could only frown.

Upon Robbie Ray's return home, she had tried to get her father to confess, but, obviously under the impression that they did not know of it yet, he said, "When the time is right, I'll tell you all about it." He then bade them goodnight. In her frustration, she exclaimed fervently to Jackson, "Great! He's happy!"

That night, she had that dreaded dream, and cried to herself till the light of dawn pierced through the curtains. Lilly and Jackson thought they saw red puffy eyes. Robbie spotted a large wet stain on her soaked pillow.

"I guess I was hoping to tell you at just the right time. In just the right way. So that you'd understand and...not end up back here on the deck all alone." Robbie Ray's heavy Southern accent was heavy with emotion, and yet it was strangely soothing.

"I just can't picture you with anyone else but mom." Unable to take the tension any longer, Miley got up and walked over to the railings on the deck, leaving the guitar beside the bench. The cold ocean wind blew stronger, lifting her two frizzled ponytails into its gentle breeze.

"Neither can I. What she and I had was special. I can't replace that." Her father joined her on the edge of the balcony.

"Then why are you dating?"

"'Cause, life goes on, you gotta figure out some way to go on with it." Robbie put an hand on her shoulder.

Miley was silent. _I haven't gotten to that part yet..._

Taking a deep breath, Robbie pressed on, "Did you think your mom would have wanted that for us?"

Then she heard her mom's voice, telling her about the grass blade, and its strength. It was time to be brave, time to move on. Mommy was right.

"Yeah." she had to agree. "I guess she would've. She was pretty smart that way."

There was another thick silence, during which Robbie nodded in agreement.

Then, the words she had so desperately wanted to say to somebody, the words that played again and again over and over in her head, the words that she whispered as she slept fitfully, the words that she said to the gravestone, the photo, the heavens came out of her mouth into the ears of her father.

"I really miss her daddy." She looked into his eyes, and saw the same expression she wore, the same dullness behind the veil in the eyes. The box in her heart containing all those painful emotions threatened to burst; her eyes welled up.

"I miss her too kiddo." was his hoarse reply.

The box exploded, pushing her past endurance. After initial sobs she completely broke down. All the pain, the thoughts of grief burst through the dam. Afraid that the neighbours would complain, she rushed forward into her father's welcoming arms and poured her heart out into his midriff.

Still, Miley Stewart's melancholy songs resounded through the four winds, carrying her grief into far distances. The seas resonated at the sound of her miserable cries.

And from the heavens, a voice spoke,

_Live without regret. Life goes on. Miley, Robbie, Jackson, do not lose hope in life. Do not give up for me._

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And that's the end of the recollections. Took longer than I thought it would. But I enjoyed every word I typed. It is usually the writer who gets to feel the most intense emotions. In fact, the reason I write Miley so precisely is because I can relate to her. You will see more of that in the future. Next chapter will get on with the actual story plot. Bye for now!

Terrorking Tragedian


	5. Night before Mother's Day

Okay! Well, I would say Miley felt so much better after that good and loud cry. But life has to move on, so so does this story. To all reviewers and readers, I do apologise should you find the last chapter not as good as the earlier few. I was running out of gas by then. I have no hope that this satisfies you at all. This chapter will be set in season 1, when Miley was still in Middle School (I think; I don't live in America). Though it might not be good, and that it may be taking the impact away from this story (I felt so), it was inspired by a dream and in between the last chapter and the next seemed appropriate. May I ask all disappointed readers to please bear with me until the next chapter is complete.

Oh, and let me clarify one more time. THIS IS NOT MOLIVER! This is Jiley. Oliver is simply a caring friend of Miley's. Unfortunately, people don't your stories if you don't put romance in it, and I HATE romance, pardon me for saying that. Jiley elements are present because I need this to be as canon as possible (aka as close to real as the real thing). The shame!

Much of this story will be told from Miley's point of view. This is Miley narrating her preparations for tomorrow's day as well as her experiences in school.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Hannah Montana, don't own Disney.

----------------------can someone tell me how to work this thing?----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

School was a nightmare in the day. Miley was a person whom they define a "loser". What is a loser, you say? A loser is person whom nobody respects, who hates everybody and in return is ridiculed and teased by everyone. A loser is a person who gets picked last at everything: from flag football, to cheer-leading tryouts and basketball. A loser is a person who is so abysmally unpopular people pull a million tricks on them, and otherwise goggle at them like someone observing a zoo animal. A loser, above all, is someone who thinks she's weird, whom other people think is weird, and who IS weird.

Her social status defined her a reject. Everyday at school is like a beating. And of course, she had taken a lot of beatings at school. Who says girls can't be beat up? Cracker the bully was the person who marked her as her own target number one.

"_Yo! Stinky Stewart!" a harsh voice called out behind me._

"_AAH!" Turning around in shock, I tried to behold the sight of Cracker menacingly striding towards me. Lilly and Oliver weren't there went I needed them..._

_Immediately my heart began to go into overdrive, pumping so fast my chest hurt. I backed against my locker and tried to flatten myself against it as much as possible, desperate to get away from the Holy Terror. I began to sweat in utmost fear, and I felt my breath quicken._

"_You owe me lunch money, Stewart!"_

_It took a ridiculous amount of courage to speak up, but I managed to stutter a soft answer as I stared into the giant figure's face only five inches from mine. I could smell onions already._

"_B-b-but I-I didn't owe y-y-you any-th-thing..."_

"_You can talk?! You still can talk?!" she roared, pulling a fist back and unleashing it, deliberately missing my nose and hitting the locker behind me with a resounding SLAM! __I screamed and shielded my head with my arms._

_Then I felt a knee rupture my stomach with the most brutal force, and in agony, I clutched at my tummy and knelt down on the floor in front of Cracker, pleading for my life._

"_Please Cracker! Please! Leave me alone! Don't kill me!"_

_It must have sounded dumb, but I was desperate. Terror gripped my throat, and I found myself unable to talk. Wait, that was Cracker's huge hand holding me by the neck and pinning me against the locker! She must have lifted me one foot of the floor!_

_I began gagging and attempted to struggle against it, but the more I struggled, the tighter the grip became, and soon I was exhausted and breathless. I felt like I would faint due to the lack of air. My lungs were searing, and a thumping pain erupted in my bruised stomach. My arms fell uselessly beside me._

"_You listen Stewart, and you'd better listen good. You better cough up my five bucks pronto, or I will murder you with my hands. You hear me?"_

_I had no air to even gasp a terrified answer._

"_YOU HEAR ME?!" She threw me onto the floor viciously and proceeded to kick me in the stomach three times on the same spot. Hard._

_WHAM! I coughed up blood all over her white sneakers. She gave a cry of utmost outrage and landed that same foot into that same spot._

_WHAM! I finally had the air to let out a scream of pain, all which seemed to fuel her anger even more, and like a drunken beast, she roared and landed her right foot into my ruptured intestines, again on the same area._

_WHAM! I gave out a world-shaking scream, and through the clouds that formed on my eyes I saw red shoot out like a jet from my mouth. The intestines were severed, I just knew it. Just before I thought I might die, however, she stopped kicking, and pulled me into an upright position by my neck._

_I felt extremely woozy, but I was conscious enough to feel a massive blow on the left side of my head that threatened to knock it right off my neck, which was returned once again into Cracker's vice-like grip. Very faintly, I heard a threat from my tormentor._

"_Tomorrow, Stewart. Or else."_

_And a final blow from her mallet-sized hand landed on the spot just above my forehead did knock me back onto the ground. Unable to move at all, all my muscles aching, my stomach feeling as if it was leaking, and my head completely stunned from those two blows, I slumped and simply sat there like a doll, leaning against the cold locker. Warm blood flowed out in an endless stream out of my half-open mouth, and from my eyes a river of tears descended._

_Cracker muttered, "Pathetic!" and strutted off in a huff._

_The cruel audience snickered and grinned, a few of them pointing at me with mocking laughter in their eyes. None of them came forward to help, afraid that my weirdo-germs might contaminate them. I, however, had no strength to feel any emotion at all. I just sat there, dazed, till shadows came over my eyes..._

That happened on the exact day Lilly found out I was Hannah Montana. And you know what I complained to Dad about after school that day? NOT that!

Of course, Amber and Ashley were a pair of Miley's number one enemies. She did not know how long she could stay alive in this school with them marching around. They've had a knack of picking at Miley's weaknesses and soft spots. But there was one incidence when they've hit jackpot.

_It was a class President elections day. And to my utter surprise, I volunteered to run for class president. Not a very good idea when I discovered my opponents were none other than Amber and Ashley._

_It was fine till recess, when I discovered that the entire school was full of posters abusing me. Hmph, just as well. But then the Terrible Duo came to pick a fight with me personally._

"_Hey Stewart, we all know who's going to be class president, don't we? I mean, we are the prettiest girls in school, and you are the dorkiest" Amber said eyeing me with disgust._

"_That is so not fair! I mean, TWO people can't be class president at once!" I rebutted, furious at the injustice._

"_That's right! But, you're gonna drop out anyway, so, why bother think about it?"_

"_And who said I was dropping out?!"_

"_DUH! We are!" Amber and Ashley said in unison before doing their trademark "OOH! TSSS!" handshake. I could only glare at them, thinking what to say next._

"_You're going down, dork. And we'll see to it." Amber said before the pair haughtily tossed back their hair and stalked away._

_I growled softly. We'll see during the speech won't we?_

_But during my turn to speak to the student body, I could clearly see that the audience was against me. And when the insults came, I stoically took them with my head bowed and my eyes shut. That is, until this one came from Amber._

"_I bet her mother would've wanted to see her run anyway."  
_

_My eyelids sprung apart, and I turned my head towards the offender slowly and menacingly, my eyes glowing with malice, and my blood boiling. With a voice of pure venom, I slowly rolled it in my mouth before spitting it out:_

"_For you information, Amber, I've won the elections before. And it was to my misfortune that it happened on the day MY MOMMY DIED!!"_

_Then I realised what I had just said. A series of pictures flashed before my eyes: the skipping back home that day when I was ten, the joy of triumph, the inferno, the shrill scream, the shock, the realization, and the charred remains of..._

_They must have noticed my facial expression, and pressed on their advantage while I was momentarily silent._

"_Yeah and what did you think? That we would all be voting for you just because we're sorry you LOST YOUR MOMMY?" Ashley did a cruel impression of me crying like a baby over my mommy._

"_You even called her your MOMMY." Amber gave me a disgusted look. "What a loser."_

_The audience began their tirade. They hurled too many personal insults for me to take. Feeling oddly reminiscent about that day 4 years ago, I burst into tears in front of the student body. Only this time it was in shame and misery, not in triumph._

_Clutching the stand for support, I made a valiant but futile attempt to stifle my tears. But there was no stopping them now. Somewhere in the audience, I could see Lilly and Oliver hurrying their way to the stand._

"_Get out of here, loser."_

_I gladly obliged. Running down the stairs, I buried my face into my hands, and escaped the theater, the audience still yelling, "Run home to your mommy you big baby! Wah! Wah!"_

_I did run out of the theater and after making sure I've gotten at least a good five hundred metres away from them monsters, I held on to the closest pillar for support. There I cried my eyes out against it._

"_I'm sorry mommy, I can't do this..."_

_I did not care when Lilly and Oliver caught up with me, both of them panting._

_There I cried till the school bell ran, signaling the end of school. Let them celebrate all they want. I'm just gonna stay here till school closes._

Ugh. I just can't stand those people. Hopefully I won't have to today.

No chance of that. Tomorrow was Mother's Day. The Day of Utmost Suffering. The day I got the most injuries. You know, Mother's Day is a day for people who have mothers to celebrate.

Resigned to the fact that I would probably cry at least twice in school tomorrow, I went into a fitful sleep. That night the dream returned, and I woke up in the middle of the night hugging Beary and crying all over again.

No. This won't do. I made my way to the deck as quietly as I could. As soon as I reached the living room, I pushed open the door and stepped out into the night.

The winds and air on the deck was freezing cold. I stepped out and felt the wind blow against my cheek sharp as a knife. Shivering, I put my arms around me and slowly walked onto the edge of the deck. It never occurred to me that I should have brought a jacket.

As a mighty gale kicked up, goose pimples erupted on my peerless skin. But I was too absorbed in my thoughts to care. Slowly, I raised a hand into the heavens and cried out, "Mommy!! Why did you have to go?!"

As if in reply, the dark sky burst open, and a thunderstorm was unleashed from its chains. I was drenched head to toe, and felt myself freezing as the gale lowered its temperature.

But I had no intention to leave the deck. I felt those powerful emotions explode within me once more. Melancholia, loss, and emptiness.

She was gone. And there was no way I could bring her back in time for tomorrow...

"_You even called her your MOMMY. What a loser."_

"_Get out of here, loser."_

"_Yeah and what did you think? That we would all be voting for you just because we're sorry you LOST YOUR MOMMY?"_

"_Run home to your mommy you big baby! Wah! Wah!"_

"_Your mommy ain't never coming back. Face it Miley. Might as well give up now."_

"MOMMY! COME BACK TO US! COME BACK TO ME!"

"_It's no use...it's no use...hahahahaha..."_

"NO! MOMMY! MOMMY!"

Then I thought I saw her floating just a few yards away from me. She was wearing a sad and longing smile, wearing a white piece of cloth, watching me from there. I stopped crying for a moment and tried to reach out for her...

"Mommy?"

She simply replied with a smile, and lifted her hands as if she was being crucified. Then, right in front of my eyes, she started to vanish.

"No. NO!" I was desperately trying to get her back; I so desperately wanted my mommy. But she did not seem to care. She just faded away slowly.

"MOMMY! MOMMY!" I frantically tried to catch her just before she totally vanished from sight. The last thing I saw on her was her face. In time that too was consumed by the torrential rains.

"MOMMY! NO! COME BACK!" I screamed myself hoarse.

I held on to the railings for support as I screamed my pain into the merciless storm clouds. Next thing I felt was all the positive energy drain out of me, and like a sack, I collapsed on my knees. All I heard were my own pitiful cries being drowned by the rolling thunder.

And I stayed there bawling out my misery for an hour. The storm intensified, but still I did not leave. I wanted to drown in this water. I wanted to die. If my mommy would come back then I will go join her.

Lord please let me die in this storm...please let me die now...

She was so close...yet so far...

"MILE! GET OUTTA THERE!"

I felt no more rain on my body. It was as if all went numb. I just saw myself (to my horror) leaving the deck, away from where mommy was before she vanished.

My heart skipped a beat as I struggled to get back to the railings. The harder I struggled, however, the further I seemed to get from it. In an act of final desperation, I scratched the floor boards, trying to crawl my way back, screaming my throat dry.

"I LOVE YOU MOMMY! DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT! MOMMY COME BACK! WHY WON'T YOU COME BACK?!"

"MILE CONTROL YOURSELF!"

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! I WANT MY MOMMY! **MOMMYYYYYY!!!"**

I felt a slap across my face bringing sense back into me. Blinking for awhile, I saw that I was back in the living room, having just been carried in by daddy.

Daddy was livid. "What in the world d'you think you were doing out there?! Did you want to die?"

I noticed then that I was wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, both which were soaked through. I was shaking in the cold, and there was not a part of my body that was dry.

Then daddy pulled out a towel from nowhere and wrapped me up tight and warm.

"Bud. What happened?" he inquired in a significantly softer voice.

I did not answer; I simply bit my fist and let the tears flow again. I just liked crying. What's wrong with that?

"C'mon bud. It's just a nightmare. C'mon, I'll tuck you in. You can tell me tomorrow."

Very unaware of my surroundings, I vaguely felt daddy hold me in a cradling position, and immediately all the strength from my body seeped away, my energy reserves apparently having been depleted. Not even knowing when, I fell into a deep sleep in his arms.

To my dear readers,

I am particularly concerned over my lack of juice right now, apparently having run out of it sometime ago. Losing the momentum is not fun, and if I cannot think of next day's events I might have to put this on a temporary halt. Please understand if I do not update on this a while. Should I stop this story, would readers kindly turn your attention to any new stories I might upload meanwhile. Thank you, and once again my sincere apologies if this chapter disappoints any one.

Terrorking Tragedian


	6. Mother's Day: Cracker's Crunch

The following three chapters I devote entirely to what happens on Mother's Day. Remember, day time Miley, night time Hannah. And Hannah is in for serious trouble. Read on and find out. This is going to be juicy! Haha yes, I actually know how to write the next few chapters!

The following chapters also further explore the friendship ties between our main characters.

Please forgive me for silly little errors; I am VERY VERY sensitive to silly stupid shouldn't-be-there mistakes like "of" instead of "off" or missing lines and spaces that make the story untidy.

I am aware that Mother's Day is on a Sunday. In this story, the school celebrates festivals earlier than the day the occasion falls. This is because on the actual day of celebration, children don't go to school. So, schools celebrate the occasion on the school day closest to the holiday. I'm not sure whether they celebrate this in schools in America anyway. So, whatever it is that I am factually wrong about, please suspend your disbelief for the incoming chapters.

And also to reviewers, **please tell me not just how do you think of the chapter, but which part of the chapter do you like the most**. This benefits me more than you think. (Really!) And if you have time, please tell me your favourite parts of the **last few chapters **as well. You help is most appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

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At the crack of dawn, the first rays of sun light shone through, signaling the beginning of Friday, and the celebrations of Mother's Day. Miley opened her eyes and found herself lying on my bed, with Beary tucked warmly under my arm. What happened last night? How did I end up here?

Then I remembered, I was out on the deck before Daddy carried me in and dried me. I think I might have fallen asleep then. Well, I'm glad he didn't throw me into a dumpster.

Just as well, I guess. Now I have to face him.

I felt lousy; as if there was a great emptiness inside my gut. I also felt lethargic; I think what happened last night sapped me of all my energy and strength. Right now, all I wanted to do was stay in bed, waiting for that lousy feeling to dissipate.

"Mile! Hurry up! I'm makin' pancakes!" Daddy called from downstairs.

"...groan..."

Reluctantly getting up, I washed my face, did my hair (ponytails on Friday), got dressed (where is the pink miniskirt and that dang blue top?), grabbed my bag, and as I descended down the stairs I caught a whiff of Dad's famous (in Tennessee) pancakes.

When I got to the kitchen, I learnt that I'm not the only one who felt depressed.

Jackson was strangely quiet, his face a shade paler than usual. He sat there silent, chewing his pancakes slowly with a distracted look in his eyes. Dad did not look so cheerful either as he flipped the pancakes.

In an attempt to clear the air, I exclaimed in an overly bright voice, "What happened here? Why aren't y'all talking?"

Jackson lifted his gaze from his pancakes to stare at me for a few seconds. Immediately understanding the situation, my face fell as I stated the obvious, "Today's Mother's Day."

Dad grunted in a low voice. Jackson returned his gaze back to his pancakes. I sat down in silence, having nothing else to say.

Even Daddy's pancakes didn't look inviting. I felt too - what was that feeling? - depressed to eat anything. Eating the pancakes felt like chewing carpet. After five minutes of fruitless chewing, I pushed the plate away, feeling slightly sick. Daddy gave me an understanding look and said simply, "Go. You're gonna be late for school."

Jackson and I stood up at once. Muttering a quiet farewell to Daddy, I picked up my schoolbag and walked out of the door with Jackson behind me. Jackson drove us to school today, me sitting beside the driver's seat. All this while, we sat in awkward silence. I absentmindedly twirling my hair between my fingers, taking a sudden interest in the surroundings.

Until halfway to school, Jackson muttered quietly, "I miss her Miles."

"Huh?" I snapped my eyes onto him.

"I miss mom." Sadness permeated his voice.

It took a while for my brain to register this totally unexpected statement. Okay, (after thinking a little), I know he misses mom just like we all do, but still I did not expect him to say it all of the sudden, on our way to school.

Keeping his eyes on the road as the red light changed to green, he asked in a slightly distracted voice, "Don't you miss mom too?"

"...I..."

I fixed my eyes on my lap, my fists clenched and placed on my knees. What was there to say? We were in a car on our way to school and suddenly he pops this question at me; I didn't know how to answer!

More awkwardness and uneasy silence followed.

Soon Seaview Middle School came into view. Jackson stopped at the side of the road and I alighted after a mumbled farewell. He then drove off without a word.

I watched him disappear into the busy road, on his way to Seaview High. I stared into a distance for quite some time, still thinking about what Jackson had just said. It was not that I failed to understand what he said. It was because I never thought about it deeply, that Jackson misses mom. He looks so energetic all the time; who would have thought he was a depressed soul inside? He looks a bit like me, now that I think of it.

Did Jackson suffer like I did, too? Did he have haunting nightmares, just like me? And perhaps, he might also suffer grief spells like mine, and cry a lot? Did he cry for mommy the way I did last night?

If he did have nightmares, what would his be like? After all, he wasn't there to witness the terrible scene...

I shuddered thinking about it.

Deeply immersed in my thoughts, I failed to notice bicycle speeding right towards me. I did not here the sound of those warning bells either.

"GET OUTTA THE WAY!"

I snapped my head around at the last second.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

**CRASH!!!**

"...ohh..."

"Fool!"

I think I might have blacked out for a while, for later I woke up, finding myself on a bed in the school sick bay.

I suddenly sensed an excruciating pain on my right arm. Looking at my side, I saw that it was bandaged. I winced and gave a soft squeal of pain.

The elderly matron saw that I was awake. She came over and said, "Ah, you're awake. You were hit by a bicycle, and the crash tore a gash in your arm, along with some other injuries. I cleaned it up and bandaged it while you were out cold." Seeing the look of horror on my face, she hastily added, "You'll be fine, my dear."

After checking to confirm that I hadn't any other serious injuries on my legs (curses, why did I choose today to wear that miniskirt?!) and my head (a little bruise), I was free to go.

Lilly and Oliver were waiting outside. From what they told me, I was knocked down by a jock speeding at what would have looked like fifty miles per hour, and when he hit me we both flew a distance. He got up and swore (according to Lilly, who was a witness), kicking me on the side before picking up his bike and speeding off on his bike. I was unconscious then. Lilly then said that no one cared that I was out cold on the ground, bleeding profusely from a huge gash on my right arm. She and Oliver ran over there just as a group of cheerleaders came up and pointed at the unconscious me (I winced at the thought) and Oliver picked me up. He ran towards the sick bay, Lilly hot on his trail.

I was an instant disgrace, having been injured in such an undignified way. As I searched the hallways for Lilly and Oliver, people pointed at me, laughing and teasing. I fixed my eyes on the floor a few paces away from me, trying not to blush too much in embarrassment. But I couldn't block out all those nasty comments and snipes from a group of girls who hated me the most.

"Hey, Stinky, what were you doing?"

"Dreaming about mommy?"

"You wanted to die, didn't you?"

Lilly gave the group of snobs a dirty look, Oliver started 'checking them out' before Lilly hit him hard on the arm. All I cared about was getting the heck out of here as soon as possible.

"Don't worry Miley, we won't let anything get to you today. Especially today." Lilly mumbled from the corner of her mouth.

Oliver grunted in agreement, an uncharacteristic grim look on his face. I smiled despite being depressed and feeling humiliated, happy that I had such loyal friends shielding me from danger on the day when I was most vulnerable.

The first bell of the day rang. Soon students crowding the hallways began to file out. I took the left turn to my locker just as Lilly and Oliver headed off to the right, not wanting to be late for class (some bodyguards!).

The corridor where my locker was was completely empty.

I soon learned why.

Just as I was rummaging through my locker looking for the biology textbook, a hulking figure loomed over me, casting a huge shadow on my back.

"Hello, Stewart."

I whipped around in terror, coming face to face with Cracker's giant features inches away from me. She was so close to me I could her smell onion breath.

"Cracker!"

"That's right Stewart. I didn't feel like going to class, so I just hanged around looking for people to beat up. Imagine my luck when I came by you, my favourite prey."

She cracked her huge knuckles made of the hardest steel. Every word was full of malice. I cowered and backed away from her as far as I could while standing against the lockers, feeling very reminiscent to what happened months ago. Every particle on my body shook with fear; my knees glued themselves together and my arms wrapped themselves around me, trying to shield my stomach from her.

"C-C-C-Cracker...please...n-n-no..." I stammered.

Cracker laughed with vindictive pleasure, watching my pathetic behaviour. But my fear of Cracker was so intense I would beg on all fours just to get out of here.

Where was Lilly and Oliver when I needed them?

She rolled up a sleeve and pulled a fist back, gathering momentum for a lethal first blow. Then, two seconds later, she chucked the punch at light speed right at my face.

I screamed and ducked. Her fist flew right over my head and collided into the locker behind me with a deafening BANG!

Cracker was impressed.

"Not bad, Stinky. Very quick to react. Now let's see your endurance." She chuckled diabolically.

She proceeded to savagely clench her fist around my neck, stopping my ability to breathe. I started gagging and struggling against it, making desperate but futile attempts to repel this demon. After what felt like an eternity, just before I blacked out again due to the lack of air, I felt her release her iron grip. I plummeted and landed hard on the floor, taking deep painful breaths as my consciousness slowly started to fade away.

"...ugh..."

"HAHAHAHA!"

I was pulled into an upright position, her hand once again gripping my neck like a vice. At once, I knew I was a punching bag. She landed blow after blow on my chest and gut, laughing maniacally while listening to my screams and pleas.

"ARGH!"

"That's right! Moving on, baby!"

"AAH! STOP!"

"HAHAHAHA!"

"PLEASE! STOP!"

She sunk an extra-powerful fist into my stomach, sending a squirt of blood flying out of my mouth and right into her evil eyes. She roared with rage and flung me down at the bottom locker, one hand covering her right eye which I had just spit blood into. I held on tight to my stomach in agony, feeling pretty sure that my intestines were ruptured, and that I would probably spend the rest of next week in the hospital due to severe internal bleeding. Small rivers of tears descended down my cheeks as I burst into a coughing fit, spraying blood from my mouth everywhere.

"..cough...cough..."

"RRRRRAAAAAAAGH!!!!"

Cracker used her favourite and most powerful technique on me. Roaring like a drunken mad beast, she savagely sunk the same foot into my ruptured intestines three times in rapid succession, with each kick hurting more than the last.

WHAM! The first kick knocked all the air out of me. I managed to emit a small squeal of pain.

WHAM! The second kick hit my bruised stomach, sending another jet of blood out of my mouth and staining her boot.

SLAM! My vision started to swim; my heart threatened to stop, and I began to experience near-fainting numbness in the brain...

I couldn't stem the flow of blood coming from my mouth. I was completely immobilised by the serious ache in my guts and the numbness in my head. I longed for this nightmare to end; longed for this torture to stop...

"Cracker...please...stop..."

My vision started to fade away, and I doubled over, falling flat in my face. I heard a low voice yell sharply "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" and Cracker back away from me promptly before curtains closed over my eyes...

"ugh..."

"HEADMASTER!"

That was how I ended up in the sick bay for the second time today, flinching at the pitiful look from the matron upon coming around. I should have gone to a hospital, but the matron insisted I go back to class, trying to assure me that I'll be fine. I had no way to argue against the school authorities. Grudgingly, I slowly limped back to class holding onto my aching intestines.

Great. First the bike accident, then Cracker. What else could go wrong today?

My life.

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I was unable to squeeze such a big story into one chapter, so I had to break it into three. Curses! I worked till six in the morning on this, so I don't really think I have the time to continue. I have the juice, of course, but 24 hours a day is not enough for me. I shall have to continue tomorrow.

Also, I felt that writing from Miley's point of view was a tad difficult and inflexible. It seems the reason I was so displeased with my stories is because I write too much of it in first-person view, hence eliminating the omniscience of a narrator. From now on, I will tell the story from a narrator's point of view.

Please do not be too disappointed about this chapter (I know I am). I shall post a much better one tomorrow, with narrator's point of view. In the mean time, tell me what you think about this. Also, for reviewers, if you could do me a favor, could you please tell me what were your favourite parts of the previous few chapters and kindly explain why. The feedback will show as visible results, benefiting everyone a lot (unlike the surveys and feedback forms that you usually toss away because they are pointless). Your help is much appreciated.

Terrorking Tragedian


	7. Mother's Day: The Attack of the Bullies

The last chapter had made no really big revelations; nothing new going on. This was due to the fact that I had only 24 hours to work in a day, and only so much can be done so quickly. Every chapter takes a painstaking 4 to 6 hours to write, with me testing the importance of every word and sentence. I did promise that this chapter will be much better, though. And I shall keep my promise!

**This chapter will be written in a third-person's view** (my preferred style). That should make things slightly less ambiguous.

Once again may I ask all readers and reviewers to please feedback and tell me which part of the chapter did you like the best, and if you have the time graciously tell me what was your favourite parts of the past few chapters. Your feedback is much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

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By the time Miley limped out of the sick bay, the second period had begun. The deserted hallways were evidence that lesson time was well under way. Grudgingly, Miley slowly journeyed to the gym for PE lesson. Obviously she would not have been able to play anything for today, or perhaps a month.

"Stewart, you're late. Hurry and get changed."

"Miss, I can't really play anything today. I've got the nurse's pass."

"Very well then. Sit at the bench over there."

People gave her funny looks wherever she went on that day, callously mocking her and laughing at the pictures of her injured state in their camera phones. Insults were fired at her relentlessly from all sides in the cafeteria, the hallways, even in class. Not even Lilly and Oliver could change public attitude, however hard they try to be bodyguards.

"Hey Stewart, are you trying to draw attention to yourself by breaking your arm?"

"Is that supposed to be a new dork fashion trend?"

"Did that bike really do that to you? You must be really weak!"

"For your information, she was attacked! Just like you would be if you didn't shut up!" Lilly defended Miley valiantly.

Miley had endured daily mutterings behind her back as well as mutterings right in front of her. And usually someone treated this way daily would soon get used to it and ignore those snide comments, but Miley was never as strong as she hoped to be. It took the full combined effort of Lilly and Oliver just to stop Miley bursting into tears many times that morning.

"Miley don't cry! You didn't get a broken arm just because you let yourself be beaten into a pulp by Cracker! You got it because to fought her!"

"I accidentally spit blood into her eye. I was too weak to fight, Lilly."

"Well it worked. I mean, she let you go and kinda bumped into the headmaster, didn't she? You lived to tell the tale."

"I n-nearly died! She w-w-wanted to k-kill me!"

"Then you'll have to fight her! If you let her get away with this, she'll haunt you for life! And yeah, till you're seniors citizens, if you know what I – "

"OLIVER!"

Miley gave a dry sob, her eyes welling up very suddenly.

"Okay, okay! I'll just shut up then!"

The worst to come, however, was during the last period of the day: Form Teacher Interaction period. Mr. Corelli and the class were discussing the reason they celebrate Mother's Day. Fifteen minutes into the lesson, the class got into an excited questions-and-answers session.

All the while, Miley was silent, her breaths slow, her head bowed.

"Ashley! Tell us what you do on Mother's Day."

"Well, we go shopping, DUH! I mean, what does a girl do on Sunday other that that?"

"Be a snob?"

"Shut up dork!"

"And you!"

"Sarah! Why don't you tell us what you do with your mom on Mother's Day?"

"Well, we get up at four in the morning, then we go to the SPCA and help out together as volunteers, afterwards we start campaigning for the Animal Welfare Society before raising funds for the needy. At about five in the afternoon we volunteer at the Old Folks' Home and – "

"You are SO lucky I don't have my gong with me today."

"Why would you need that?"

"Don't get me started Sarah. Lilly, what about you?"

"We have a lot of fun together with the rest of my family all afternoon like all normal families do." Lilly said in a surprisingly constricted voice, as if speaking through clenched teeth.

"You mean nearly-normal families, skater geek."

"Like you're in any way normal yourself, Amber!"

"Dork!"

"Freak!"

"Girls, enough! Miley, you look pretty quiet all the while. Why don't you tell us how you spend Mother's Day?"

Miley blanched, feeling her stomach turn to ice and fall into some bottomless pit.

The class was silenced in an instant. Some looked at Miley piteously, some maliciously, as if they were hoping she would be called up and questioned and were now watching the drama.

Miley stood up slowly and carefully (still in much pain). Her eyes fixed firmly on the pencil on her desk. She seemed to be thinking fast during the period of awkward silence.

"..."

"Miley?"

"...er...I...my mom..."

"What happened to the class?"

Lilly spoke up for Miley.

"Sir, Mileys mom isn't here anymore..."

"Oh..."

Mr. Corelli was taken aback upon learning that one of his most energetic students was scarred emotionally. With sincere apology, he spoke in a voice not like his own, "I'm sorry, Miley. I didn't know. Please, if you would sit down…"

"No."

Miley had a blazing look in her eyes, her voice low and resolute. As if she was proud of the moments she shared with her mother when she was still here and wanted to tell the class all about them, however painful it was to reminisce.

"I remembered the last Mother's Day we had together. On that same day one of our mother cows were giving birth. Momma and I sat by her for hours reassuring her as she struggled to deliver the young ones. When the heifer gave birth to twins we celebrated the occasion together, with our huge family. Of course, all the mothers and grandmothers were honored at the party, but our star mother of the day was Moo-moo Mary."

"Very interesting, Miley. Now, let us move on with the lesson. I want all of you to separate into groups and in your groups, discuss what our mothers do and sacrifice just for us. You will write down your points from your discussion on a piece of paper. I'm going to the staff room for a while, but when I get back I want all of you ready for presentation. Begin now."

Nobody moved.

"Well, let's get moving!" Mr. Corelli's voice lost its temporary severity and regained its excited gusto. Clapping his hands, he got the class to wake up suddenly and start moving around. There was much hustle and bustle as everybody busied themselves with forming groups.

Lilly and Oliver walked over to a spaced-out-looking Miley, noticing her tears of fond reminiscence. Tentatively, Lilly poked her shoulder.

"Miley?"

"Huh?" Miley snapped out of her deep reverie. To her extreme embarrassment, she discovered her own eyes welling up and hastily wiped the tears away before anyone else noticed.

"Come on, let's do this stupid thing." Oliver said with no enthusiasm.

It was alright for a while, Lilly and Oliver writing stuff down, leaving Miley alone while she needed solitude. Miley indeed looked slightly ill; her somewhat pallid face was pale, and she seemed to be very fatigued.

They did not know how she nearly tried to kill herself while screaming for her mother last night during a moment of delirium, only to be rescued by her father at three in the morning.

Amber and Ashley, using Mr. Corelli's absence to their advantage, strolled over to Miley's table, intending to attack her.

"Hey, Stewart, we just want you to know we're very sorry about your mom." Amber cawed in a falsetto voice, evidently not a good actress but meaning the sarcasm to hurt anyway.

"Oh save it, Amber! We know why you're here!" Lilly barked at Amber fiercely.

"Now, now. We were just trying to be friendly. We would never hurt her now that we know her –"

"You've known that since the camping trip! Don't be here trying to pretend to be friendly!" Lilly exclaimed.

"And what are you gonna do to us if we're being friendly? Make us grow horns like Moo-Moo Mary?"

By now, Oliver was on his feet as well.

"We have no need for shallow freaks like you who tease someone's weakness and milk it when they wish it!"

"That's the most cowardly thing you can do!" Lilly agreed.

Amber and Ashley were, apparently, glad they managed to rustle Lilly and Oliver's feathers so quickly. Then, in a very biting but pleased voice, Amber purred, "You're right. We were probably cowards, much like her mom who could bear to stay alive and watch her wreck of a child."

It didn't make much sense, but it touched the nerve. Much to Amber and Ashley's glee, Miley reaction was what they had desired; she suddenly banged her fist on the table violently, causing Lilly and Oliver to jump a mile. A dark and murderous look set in her eyes as she turned her head to face the smugly grinning duo, and with a voice sizzling with venom and cold as sharp ice, she quietly hissed, every word equivalent to taking a menacing step towards them, "Say that again."

"Are you threatening me, dork? I said your mom was – "

"She was not a coward, you filth."

"How did she die, then? In a freak accident? Just like the rest of your family, a clan of freaks?"

"It WAS a freak accident, FYI." Miley growled, placing heavy emphasis on the last three letters of her sentence.

"Your mommy always fed you by hand didn't she? You need her to live; I can tell. You can't live without her. Is this what happens to her daughter when she is not around any more? Without her mother, Miley Stewart is a wreck?" Ashley quipped jarringly.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Miley was beside herself, but couldn't help pondering the truth behind those hurtful words.

Augmenting the note of derision in her voice, Amber dealt the final heavy blow on Miley.

"I bet she must have died painfully, thinking about what happens to her daughter should she die. Will she turn into a bad egg?"

Ashley did a cruel and exaggerated impression of Miley crying over her mother's tombstone.

"Ooh, tss -"

But before they could complete their signature handshake, Miley was upon Ashley, in an attempt to cause Ashley as much pain as she could inflict at the moment, with one arm bandaged and various parts of her body bruised and battered. Amber watched in shock as Miley knocked Ashley's head repeatedly on the floor, as if trying to murder her. Ashley was screaming blue murder. Lilly and Oliver stared in half approval, half horror, having never seen Miley gone berserk like this before. In fact they could have sworn they've seen a red glint flash through Miley's eyes.

"GET OFF HER, YOU ANIMAL!" Amber seized Miley on the scruff of her neck. Miley kicked Amber as hard as she could on the shin, making Amber howl indignantly in pain. With an almighty heave, Miley threw herself on Amber and tried to strangle her while Ashley got up and ran for her life, her arms high in the air, her screams trailing behind her like a banshee. With much hesitance, Lilly and Oliver stepped forward and restrained the bloodthirsty beast Miley had become. Miley released her grip on Amber's neck.

"LET ME AT'EM! LET ME AT'EM!"

"Miley! Control yourself!"

"RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAGGHH!!!"

Amber backed away for a few seconds before running out of the classroom the way Ashley did just now.

It took Miley a slap in the face before she regained her senses. Gasps for air quickly turned into sobs, and she collapsed onto the floor, weeping loudly.

There was much commotion in class after that. Some mocked Miley more, others congratulated her, some even cheered watching the snobbish duo flee. Lilly helped Miley onto a chair, and without a moment's delay, Miley banged her head hard on the table before slowly raising it again.

"Miley! What are you doing?!"

Miley brought her face onto the table again with greater force. Oliver grabbed her on the shoulders, preventing anymore self-harm. Miley struggled against his grip, but in her current physical state, all she could do was squirm uncomfortably. Lilly embraced her tightly, trying to calm her down, while Oliver made sure Miley did not try something weird.

"It's okay, Miley. You got them good."

Miley bawled miserably on Lilly's shoulder till her eyes ran dry, her voice hoarse. Mr. Corelli arrived at the door meanwhile, Amber and Ashley, apparently using him as a shield from their attacker, hiding behind him.

"Miley! I cannot believe you would do something like this!" was his cry of dismay and shock. Miley totally ignored it. Oliver tried to justify the assault.

"Mr. Corelli, she was provoked! Amber and Ashley went overboard with their teasing and Miley shut them up!"

"Enough, Oliver. Miley, I know you must have a reason for your assault, but such behaviour is intolerable. I will have to send you to the principal's office."

Miley didn't move, and half the class began to protest.

"Sir, Amber and Ashley provoked her!"

"It's not fair!"

"It wasn't her fault!"

"She was just overly emotional!"

Sharply, he snapped, "Come with me to the principal's office," silencing everyone in the classroom. It was rare for Mr Corelli to snap at anyone.

Lilly and Oliver insisted on going with her. After a deluge of protests, Mr. Corelli finally relented.

The two warring factions were staring daggers at each other even when they were in the principal's office. Amber and Ashley tried to convince the principal that Miley was a lunatic, while Lilly and Oliver rebutted them furiously, saying it was they who should get their head checked. The principal ordered the end of the debate and passed them all their sentences: Amber and Ashley were let off with a warning, and Miley was to be suspended for three days, starting from Monday.

The terrible twosome left the room smirking, and Miley was left to take a stern warning. Mr. Corelli was most disappointed by her display of primal aggression. After a long twenty minute lecture from the headmaster, Miley, accompanied by Lilly and Oliver, was finally allowed to leave the study.

"Why didn't you say something back there? You could have defended yourself!" Lilly hissed angrily, feeling the sting of injustice. Her glare at Miley changed quickly, however, when she noticed Miley turned a very scary pale white. Her eyes were slightly unfocused.

"Miley? Are you OK?"

Miley just stared forward, standing on the spot, as if frozen.

"Miley! Earth to Miley!" Lilly shook Miley gently on the shoulder.

Miley suddenly fell backward. Oliver caught her before she hit the ground.

"Miley!"

"…ugh…"

"Lilly! Do something!" Oliver cried in clueless desperation.

Mercifully, the school bell rang right on cue, signaling the end of school.

Miley's strength was either completely depleted by the time school was over, or it was something to do with her injuries. Unable to move without support, she was carried home by Oliver who sped for the Stewart's house in a hurry, Lilly hot on his tracks.

"Mr. Stewart, open this door!"

Robbie Ray had dark thunderclouds floating over his head, his face spelling danger when he opened the door. But the sight of Oliver holding an immobile Miley and panting heavily, with Lilly also sweating like a dog, struck him dumb with confusion.

His words were little splutters of disbelief.

"What the…"

"Miley's hurt, Mr. Stewart!"

Completely bewildered, Robbie Ray wildly gestured them in and closed the door loudly before understanding what had just happened.

"Miley's been hurt?" His voice was full of concern, and the storm clouds above his head cleared away, the look on his face replaced by a look of concern.

"...daddy..."

A raspy voice spoke up. Miley put her hands on her tummy, taking slow deep pained breaths. Robbie fell on his knees next to her, listening hard.

"What is it, sweet pea?"

"Everything hurts..." Miley whispered weakly, falling on her knees. She gave two coughs, and with them two jets of blood shot out from her mouth.

"Quick, kids! Get an ambulance!" was her father's frantic response.

"Help...me..." Miley's voice faded into nothingness, its mistress collapsing into a dead faint on the floor.

And that's how Miley ended up in the hospital, after twice visiting the sick bay on that same day.

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And that ends part two of Worst Mother's Day Ever. One whole night's work. I will get on to part three and post it later today. Enjoy for now and tell me what you think. If it sucks I will need to review it. Thank you.

Terrorking Tragedian

_Edit on 7 Sept 2007: More detailed changes and inserts were made into this chapter, including a small edit in one particular sentence which will prove to be the pivotal point of this story later on. See if you can guess which! I'm not happy with the result, but then again, I never am. Still, can't be helped._


	8. Mother's Day: Panic Attack

Let's get on with the story! After a very long halt, I've finally come up with a way to actually push and advance the story, not just ramble on about the pathos. Nevertheless, I feel that Mother's Day must be finished with beauty, so here I go! Chapter eight: Panic Attacks!

By the way, I've decided to screw the romance. To heck with Jiley! I'm doing this MY way! My style!

You want to know why it took me so bloody long to come up with this? I FEEL SO SCREWED! THAT'S WHY! Nothing was coming into my head as I typed this chapter!

Disclaimer: Nope don't own Hannah Montana, Don't own nuffink. Wish I owned something, though...

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"She'll be fine; no ruptured stomach and intestines and all. She just suffered a few nasty bruises on her stomach area and chest. Very VERY nasty bruises, but nothing life-threatening. We'll have them cleaned up, and the rest is history."

"Oh sweet niblets Doc, thanks."

"My pleasure...actually not really. What happened to her?"

"The kids told me. She got beat up at school today."

"Shocking, isn't it? Today's world? Even girls get beat up nowadays. In the past us boys considered it an honour and a test of endurance to be beat up. But girls..."

"Girls are more fragile. Miley said it herself."

"I've never treated a girl-gets-beat-up case before. Good thing you've got me as your family doctor."

"You did good, Doc. Thanks."

They were in the hospital ward, standing on either side of Miley's bed. She was sleeping, undisturbed and quiet, yet there was an aura of disturbance around her. Lilly and Oliver watched her in uncomfortable silence.

"Oh look, she's stirring!" Lilly quietly exclaimed. Everyone turned and watched her.

Miley was stirring, but not waking. With heaving breaths, Miley began rolling around, as if in a terrible nightmare. Sweat began to form on her forehead. Robbie bended over and gingerly shook her, whispering, "Mile! Mile! Wakey wakey!"

Miley began gasping for air and struggling with her bed covers, looking like she was wrestling something, or trying to get away from a tormentor.

"Mile, wakey wakey!"

"No...no...please...don't..."

Robbie was stunned. Miley began whimpering weakly, still treating the covers like a sort of suffocating mass, struggling to free herself from its terrible grasp.

"Please...don't kill me...I don't want this..."

"Miley, wake up!" Lilly yelled at her writhing friend. Miley paid no heed, however, and despite being asleep, began to sob, tears trailing down and landing on her pillow.

"Please, have mercy! Have mercy!" Her frantic cries were mystifying and yet heart-rending. Oliver tried to stop her struggling, but all he got in return was an unfortunate punch in the face.

"Ow! Dang, Miley!"

"Oliver! She's asleep! She doesn't know what she's doing!"

"Yeah, but you'd think she could be at least a bit more careful about where she throws her punches?"

Lilly rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Ugh! Boy brains! You might as well just scoop'em out and store nuts up there."

"Now where have I heard that before?"

Lilly, however, also received one in her face when one of Miley's flailing hands landed on her cheek, accompanied by a scream of "GET AWAY FROM ME!".

"Ouch! Dang, Miley!"

"LILLY! She's asleep! She doesn't know what she's doing!"

"You'd think she'd be a little more careful?" Lilly retorted, upset and hurt.

"Now, Lilly, that's contradiction, that. What did you say to me just a minute ago?" Oliver pointed out.

"Ugh! Whatever!" Lilly threw her hands up in the air in frustration. Turning to Miley, she screamed as loud as she could, "Miley! WAKE UP!"

It did the trick. Miley screamed blue murder and sat up so suddenly it made everyone jump in foot into the air, including Lilly, who hastily withdrew.

"AAAAHH!"

"MILEY!"

Miley was not crying, nor was she sleepy in any way. Instead, she was panting like as if she had just ran a marathon, her brow sweaty, eyes wide open and staring around frantically. Her hands twisted the bed covers nervously, wringing them like towels.

"You're alright, bud. Daddy's got you." Robbie gathered Miley's shaking body into his comforting arms. Miley instinctively grabbed on to her father's body like a baby koala bear would cling to its mother. Robbie could feel her cold sweat and icy skin as she hugged him, absorbing warmth.

With a wavering voice, Miley mumbled on, "She tried to kill me...she tried to kill me...Daddy..."

"Shh, shh. Your Daddy's got you. Nothing's gonna harm you, okay?" Robbie began stroking her hair gently, a surefire way to calm her down. Within minutes, Miley regained her composure and settled down on her bed.

"Well, Robbie Ray, she's in excellent condition, save the bruises and such. I think there is no need for hospitalisation." Doc declared brightly, in an attempt to clear the air. "I will discharge you immediately." he added, noticing Miley's confused expression.

"Thank goodness, Doc. Hannah's got a sort of interview on tonight, and if we stayed in hospital there's gonna be trouble." Robbie sighed with relief.

"Don't mention it, Robbie Ray. Miley, whenever you are ready." Doc helped her off the bed. Miley reached out and felt her stomach, shocked to discover bandages of some sort.

"It'll be fine, Miley. Nothing life-threatening. Boy, I can't believe the school nurse didn't send you to hospital earlier!" Lilly clapped Miley on the back, receiving a weak "ow!" in return.

"Well, kids, it's time to go. We've got two hours before the show starts, and Hannah's gotta get ready. C'mon, now!" Robbie hastened the kids to leave. "Thanks Doc."

"You're welcome." With that, Doc Meyer returned to his other duties. Robbie drove the kids home in time for Miley to get ready as Hannah.

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"Hey Mr Stewart, remind me again what this show's all about?" Lilly inquired.

"It's supposed to be a sort of concert recording, following up with an interview on Hannah's new song. I highly suspect the theme to be Mother's Day, which means that I think it's a bad idea for her to go on the show. Too bad it's fixed." Robbie explained worryingly.

"And what is this new song?" Lilly asked.

"I Miss You. You know, that song Miley wrote with her mom? I can't believe she actually wanted to record it as a Hannah song, but she did it, and now they want her to perform on stage live on the show!"

"Woah! And that interview's gonna be live too?"

"Yeah. Imagine, what if something happened in the middle of it all?"

Robbie and Lilly both knew what it meant. What if Miley burst into tears on live national television? As Hannah? Everyone knew how touchy Miley could be when it came to the subject of anything to do with the word "mother".

Just then, Oliver entered through the front door in his outrageous costume. Watching Lilly and Robbie's apparent shock, he said loudly, "So? Whaddya think? Huh? Huh?"

"Oliver? Go change. NOW!" Lilly barked at him. Oliver backed away one step, apparently hurt. 'Don't you like it?"

"Who dresses like a sixties-hippie anymore?" Lilly yelled at him, angry at his lack of fashion sense.

"For your information, I like this wig!"

"You look like a red rabbit!"

"And what's your favourite fruit, Lola Miss Purplehead?"

"Sweet niblets, here she comes!" Robbie ended the little argument by loudly declaring the arrival of Hannah, descending down the stairs in her red-and-blue Hannah outfit. "You ready to go, darlin'?" he added with a touch of careful sensitivity in his voice.

"I'm ready, Dad." Miley steeled herself and nodded resolutely.

"Okay, if you say so, but I keep thinking it's a bad idea..." Robbie muttered to no one in particular as he opened to door to reveal the limo in waiting, Andy behind the wheel.

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_I got everything I've always wanted_

_Living a dream_

_So yeah, everything I've always wanted_

_Isn't always what it seems_

_I'm a lucky girl_

_Whose dreams came true_

_But underneath it all I'm just like you_

The crowd roared and screamed themselves hoarse after the final note of Hannah's song "Just Like You". Hannah waved at the army of screaming fans ecstatically, shouting her love for the audience. Backstage, however, things were a little more tense.

It was the end of the Hannah concert. Immediately after the half-hour break, the interview at the studio will commence. And Robbie knew now, the subject of discussion was going to be aimed more at Mother's Day than Hannah's new song, much to his dismay. Miley had to either steel herself for this, or back out if they refused to change the subject. After all, it was Miley, not Hannah, that had the problem with anything regarding the topic on "mother". Nobody knew very much about Hannah's personal life, yet.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Lilly as Lola Luftnagle mumbled nervously.

"You're telling me. I hope nothing serious happens on stage, lest we'll so embarrass ourselves." Robbie replied, in equal worry.

Miley ran backstage, still in a state of euphoria.

"So? How did it go?"

"Awesome, but listen. I hate to burst your happiness, but..." Lilly tried to find words to describe her worry.

"Yeah? What? Is it about the concert just now?" Miley was still very animated.

"No honey, it's about your interview later." Robbie intervened.

Lilly blurted out the arrow-straight question, "Don't you think the interview later is a bad idea? How about asking them to change a little bit?"

"It'll be fine. I've rehearsed the song as many times as I needed, and I don't think I'll screw up." Miley, in her Hannah perkiness, chirped simply and bounced away into the changing room.

"You think she knew what I meant?" Lilly asked Robbie under her breath.

"I think so. She's just not in the mood to think right now."

Oliver appeared suddenly, a plate of cake in his hand.

"Hey guys! You gotta check out the table over there! I mean, the cake's really good!"

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(The following little bit tells about Miley's thoughts at the time, so it'll be told from her POV)

Secretly, I knew what they meant. They were afraid that I might do something funny later on during the interview, like forget the lyrics to the song or start crying in front of national television, just because the topic was a little personal. I was indignant about their faithlessness, actually. I'm Hannah Montana! I'm sure I have more nerve than what they thought of me!

Actually, even I began to doubt myself. I didn't exactly do very well in terms of "being tough" today at school, having been beaten up, being provoked into a rage, then landing myself in suspension, even if it didn't mean anything. All day, I had to keep Oliver and Lilly by my side to prevent me from bursting into tears unceremoniously. Furthermore, that attack on Amber and Ashley proved that I still had a weak underbelly. Am I really sure I can handle the task later?

Daddy told me the interview was aimed at the theme of Mother's Day, including questions about how does Hannah Montana spend her Mother's Day, and what's up with the new song "I Miss You". Truth be told, I felt that Hannah needed a new look, not wanting her to be seen as the super-pumped up pop star with endless energy all the time. I wanted people to know that Hannah was just like everyone else, and if "Just Like You" didn't convey the message well enough (not to mention the other songs that hint on my double life!), then I would use "I Miss You" to bring across the point that Hannah has a soft emotional side.

I only hope that people do not see through the wall of lies, discovering the true reason this song was written for.

"_I don't think this is a good idea."_

"_I have a bad feeling about this."_

Lilly and Dad's voices keep appearing in my head, dampening my spirit. By the time I emerged from the dressing room and walked to the limo waiting to pick us up for the interview, my smile was gone, replaced by a knotted brow and a worried frown. What if the interview did go badly? And I screwed up on national television? It seemed like a bad idea after all...

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Miley was very quiet while on the limo. Her after-concert ecstasy wore off a long while ago, and instead of a lively smile on her face, she bore a frown, almost as if she was worrying about something. Keeping her eyes staring out of the window as much as possible, her chin resting on one of her palms, she looked very much like as if she was in a deep reverie.

"Miley? Are you thinking about the interview?" Lilly asked tentatively.

Miley snapped out her reverie and blinked at Lilly.

"No, not at all. Why would you say that?"

"You look a little uncomfortable."

"I told you, Lilly. I'm not nervous about the interview, and I don't think there is a possibility that I may screw up."

Robbie penetrated deep into her mind, extracting the truth. "Is that what you really think?", he asked her drily but not unkindly.

Finally, Miley admitted the truth. Heaving a deep sigh, she replied, "Okay, I did think about the interview. It's just, I think I should have the mettle to do this interview. I'm Hannah Montana! I've got nerve! But the way you treat me is as if I had no guts to do this show. Now even I don't want to admit to myself that this show could be a bad idea after all."

"Oh don't worry bud. Everything's gonna be fine. Just be careful out there." Robbie tried to comfort her, unconvinced nonetheless.

"What is it about me that makes you think I'm not up for this show?" Miley looked at her father with accusing eyes.

"Well, we all know how sensitive this topic is to you. I don't think screwing up on TV is going to be a good idea." Robbie said matter-of-factly.

Miley looked offended.

"Well, I'm going to do this show, and I'm not going to screw up. You'll see!" Miley pouted.

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**Half an hour later, at the productions studio...**_(Sudden Miley's POV in italics to bring out my point):_

"Hannah, you're up in thirty seconds."

Miley took deep breaths and tried to clear all thoughts from her head.

"Fifteen seconds..."

She braced myself for impact, steeling every nerve and muscle. Tonight, she was going to be an impregnable fortress.

"Three, two, one..."

"And now! You've seen the concert, you've heard the song, but you haven't seen her in person yet! Ladies and gentlemen, presenting...Hannah Montana!"

Now is her cue. Miley walked energetically onto the stage, waving at the studio audience screaming and cheering as loud as ten legions.

"Presenting your host of the day, it's Wendy Cruz!"

Wendy, the host of the show, also walked out onto the stage and received the applause with a wave and a blown kiss. She beckoned Hannah onto one of the chairs beside and table and planted her rear end on her chair.

"So, Hannah! We loved that performance you gave us just now, don't we?" She turned to the audience, and in reply the audience applauded once more, whistling and screaming.

"Now, Hannah. We hear that you have a new album released, and one of the bonus tracks in the album is a somewhat special song called "I Miss You." So tell us, what is that song all about? What inspired you to write it?"

Hannah appeared to be calm.

"Well, you see, actually it's my dad who writes the songs. He gets the inspiration, he writes a new song, and I record it."

"Okay, so, where did he get his inspiration from?" Wendy's questions start to become harder and harder to answer.

"I don't know, actually. I think he misses someone, and just uses his own pain and misery to write lyrics."

It was a downright lie. Miley knew perfectly what was the real reason.

"Why did you want to record this song?" Wendy asked on.

"I wanted to show everyone that I am not a mega-energetic pop star girl twenty-four-seven. I want people to know that actually, I have a soft emotional side as well. I can do slightly more peaceful-sounding songs just as well as those high-powered pop songs." Miley took care not to accidentally reveal too much.

"Right! And what is your opinion to this song?"

"Well, I think Dad's wonderful when it comes to song-writing, and also I think this is a beautiful song. It really conveys the emotion and feelings of loss. But I'm not an Emo, okay? I'm just saying." Miley raised her hands in self-defence. "I just think it's about time I sing a more soothing song."

"Yes indeed! In fact, the producers say you're going to perform it in front of all of us, right?"

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

"Okay! Hannah Montana and her new song, "I Miss You"!"

The studio audience when wild with applause as Miley reached out for her mike stand. The music began to play, its animated but significantly more peaceful tune penetrating everyone's hearts.

_Sha la la la la_

_Sha la la la la_

_You used to call me your angel_

_Said I was sent straight down from Heaven_

_You'd hold me close in your arms_

_I love the way you felt so strong_

_I reminisced about the times when I needed comfort, and Momma was there to help me through the times. I still remembered when Eloise died, right before my eyes. The bull ran right up to us from the barn, and by pushing me away from the line of attack, Eloise placed herself right in front of the bull's charge. Within seconds, the bull was upon her, goring every bit of her body. Eloise's final screams were heart-rending to hear. Nevertheless, she still yelled at me to run while I still could. With a moment's hesitation, I ran to Eloise's mom working in a nearby barn and called for help._

_The loss of Eloise was as hard for me as it was hard for her family. She was just an innocent but foolishly brave girl._

_Luckily, I had Mom to comfort me. When she took me into her warm arms, shielding me from all the pain, stroking my hair gently, the way she always did, and singing to me until I eventually fell asleep, cuddled up like a doll in her arms, feeling the radiating warmth and love of her heart. It was the first time I felt a smile on my face in days._

_I never wanted you to leave_

_I wanted you to stay here holding me_

_Momma, why did you have to leave us so suddenly? I wanted to stay longer, I wanted to feel your hug again._

_I miss you_

_I miss your smile_

_And I still shed a tear_

_Every once in a while_

_And even though it's different now_

_You're still here somehow_

_My heart won't let you go_

_And I need you to know_

_Do you know how much I suffer just because you had to go, Momma? Please don't let me take this any more. The scars aren't healing; they're festering. And they still hurt every time I think about you._

_I miss you_

_Sha la la la la_

_I miss you_

_I miss you mom. Come back to us. And not just for me. For Jackson. For Daddy. For our family. Everyone misses you._

_You used to call me your dreamer_

_And now I'm livin' out my dream_

_Oh how I wish you could see_

_Everything that's happening for me_

_Even now, I'm still not sure whether you know I'm Hannah Montana, mega-successful teen pop sensation. Sometimes I wonder whether you even know us anymore. If only you were still here. You would have seen my Hannah career. You would be here to watch me perform and wave at the screaming fans. Do you know me, Momma? Are you even listening?_

_I'm thinking back on the past_

_It's true that time is flying by too fast_

Miley sung the chorus one more time, melding her spirit into the music itself, unaware that glistening teardrops were descending from her soulful eyes. It was as if she was speaking into the heavensthrough the music, trying to contact someone.

Miley did not screw up the song. On the contrary, she performed the song with wholehearted emotion, putting every bit of her soul into the melody. She sang beautifully, and in fact, halfway through the song, the audience began to clap in beat with the song. Backstage, Robbie and Lilly were more than impressed as they watched Hannah sing out the soul-rending melody.

_I miss you_

_Sha la la la la_

_I miss you_

The final note of the song was accompanied by a deafening round of applause from the audience, Wendy included. Miley wiped her tears away hastily and bowed low before the audience.

"Absolutely spellbinding! Beautifully sung! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one more time for Hannah Montana!" Wendy cried out to the audience, and Miley was met by another wave of approval. Taking her seat, she quickly whipped another tear off her face before made a note on it.

"Excellent, Hannah! Now, when I heard you sing this song, I had a feeling that in order to sing with such emotion and expression, you must have some sort of inspiration yourself, am I wrong? What it is that supplies you with this powerful emotion when you sing? Have you, perhaps, lost someone ear as well?" Wendy's questions were starting to get more and more personal.

"I don't feel inclined to answer that question, but I suppose I do sometimes think stuff that the lyrics describe..." Miley did not know whether she should say what was in her mind.

"You do? You miss someone? But who? A friend, perhaps? A friend that moved away? Or passed away?" Wendy probed on.

"I suppose I do think a lot about a...friend who is really really far away now. Yeah."

In an offhand manner, Miley wiped her eye on her sleeve. Wendy shifted her papers and suddenly, in a bright tone, called out, "Now it's time for the studio audience to ask their questions or give their opinion! Hannah, go on and pick the people who raise their hand."

Miley pointed at a group of teenage fan girls who promptly stood up and yelled, "We love the song, Hannah!"

"Thank you. Now how about you?" Miley pointed to a little girl in the front row.

"Hannah, what do you do on Mother's Day?"

"Excellent question! In fact, that brings me to my next point! So, Hannah. We're here today to relate with the rest of the viewers, many whom celebrate Mother's Day in school first before doing so at home, on Sunday, making this practically a two day event. What do you, as a pop star and all that, do with your mom on Mother's Day?"

"Well..." Miley had to think fast and lie through her teeth. "We go shopping, and we bake cakes together at home, and..."

"You bake with your mom?" Wendy was surprised.

_Oh boy, am I in trouble._

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Backstage, Robbie put his face into his hands.

"Oh boy." Turning around to face the producer, he instructed him, "If it is necessary, when I give the word, cut to the commercials. Fast."

"Got it." The man gave Robbie a thumbs up.

Lilly was biting her nails nervously.

"What if she messes up?"

"She won't. I hope not." Robbie replied darkly.

"There is no way she can lie herself through this. She's got no mom, in the first place! What can she be doing on Mother's Day?" Lilly exclaimed quietly.

"Well, the last time it was Mother's Day, she and her mom were tending to one of our heifers in the barn. They liked to call her Moo-moo Mary, and on that day she was giving birth. Not really an actual mother-and-daughter day, but it does qualify as an event, no? I mean, Mary just became a mother of twins on that day too. I think she can use that later."

"She can't; she's already cited that example at school. If she says it again as Hannah, she might blow her cover!"

"Sweet niblets, look! They're getting to the part of the show when they get phone calls." Robbie pointed at the answering machine.

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"Caller number three, you're up with Hannah!" Wendy declared.

The past two callers simply asked Miley about the song, but it was caller number three who dropped the bomb. She was a yet another fan girl who had a slight drawl in her voice.

"Hey Hannah! I'm calling to say that I really love the song; it really describes my feelings very much right now."

"Really? How?" Miley was intrigued.

"Well, you see, my mom died three months ago, and it was really tragic. The building was collapsing, and it was on fire. I managed to get out of there, but my mom was trapped under a pillar. I still feel very hurt, and when I heard your song just now I cried! I think this song is really beautiful and meaningful. Hannah?"

Hannah was dead silent.

"Hannah? Are you there?"

_For I felt a jolt in my stomach that struck me dumb. It was a blow in the gut. Before me flashed the scene when I was beating the ground till my fists bled, screaming for momma to come back. I saw myself, on my knees, shaking, and in shock as I watched the house burn. I saw that Jackson was trying to hold me from the inferno that engulfed our house. And then, I witnessed the blackened corpse of my mom being brought out by the fire fighters._

It could have been something to do with Hannah's change in her facial expression, or the fact that her breathing became shallow, or that she suddenly placed her palm on her forehead, but Wendy suddenly remarked, "Hannah? Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I guess..."

"_DARLIN'! WHERE ARE YOU?! HONEY!"_

"_DAD HELP! I THINK MILEY'S IN SHOCK!"_

"_BROOKE! BROOKE!"_

"_Sir! Stay away from there! There has been some gas explosion!"_

"_LET ME GO! HONEY! HONEY!"_

"_Face it Miley. She's gone. Your mommy's gone..."_

"_...no..."_

"_Aw...what are you going to do? Cry? This time no one's there for you..."_

"_...no...no...NO!!!"_

"_She's dead...she's dead...she's dead...hahahahahhaha..."_

"_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!"_

"_DARLIN' NO!"_

"_The ambulance is here!"_

"_...mommy...MOMMY! MOMMY!"_

"_Miles! There is nothing we can do now!"_

"_NO! MOMMY'S STILL IN THERE! I HEARD HER!"_

"_She's gone, Miley! Control yourself!"_

"_I'M CLASS PRESIDENT MOMMY! I WANTED TO TELL YOU!"_

"_MILEY! STOP!"_

"_**MOMMY! MOMMY! COME BACK! MOMMYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"**_

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"Hannah? Are you sure you're okay?"

Miley began to gasp for breath, as if threatening to break into a sob. _Oh no, it's happening to me!_

"Hannah?" Wendy was having mixed feelings of horror and confusion.

"...Mommy..."

"Hannah? Are you okay?" The calling person was still online, apparently watching the live show at the same time.

"Yeah...yeah, I fine..." Miley's eyes looked like they were bulging in her attempt to rein in her emotions.

"Are you sure, Hannah? You don't look so good." Wendy was more than worried.

_"Face it, Miley. She's gone..."_

_"NO NO NO!"_

_"Hahahahaha..."_

Miley couldn't restrain herself. She burst into tears in front of the live audience, trying to control herself and stifle her sobs as much as possible with her hands.

"...I'm sorry, momma...I can't do it..."

"Hannah!" Wendy was shocked.

"Cut to the commercials!" was a call from offstage. Robbie and Lilly made to run up to stage, but before they could move, Hannah had fled the scene in the opposite direction...

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Do you know why it ended so poorly? Because I have to go to school now, and if I don't leave in five minutes I'm going to be late. When I come back I am definitely going to improve on it some more. There would be more if I had the time to finish it!

Which is why I say, I FEEL SO SCREWED RIGHT NOW!

Terrorking Tragedian will be right back in nine hours time.


	9. Mother's Day: Boiling Point

I wish to express my thanks to the readers who offered me a piece of their sympathy regarding the (in my opinion) disastrous end of chapter 8. I don't live in a country where they have a three month long summer holiday, hence I still go to school in the mornings. The wee hours of the morning. The reason why the last chapter looked so incomplete was because I had to dash out of my place lest I be late for school, with only five minutes to spare otherwise. It's amazing how I can work for a sleepless 48 hours and still stay alive; I'm proud of myself. But I felt really screwed when even so, I couldn't finish my work.

I sincerely apologise, and thank you all for your sympathy and understanding. Without further ado, Chapter 9! (Did you happen to notice that I originally intended this to be three-part? Due to time constraint, I'm forced to break this into quite a few pieces, four-part or possibly more.)

Oh yes, this chapter isn't really about Miley and her (fictitious) mom, it's...something else. Read and find out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana. I wish I had more than a bloody short 24 hours a day, though.

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**Lilly's POV, the sympathetic friend:**

Miley took off in the opposite direction, just as Mr Stewart and I made to run up and save her face. Her golden wig trailing behind her, she looked like a blur as she darted off the stage, half her face in her hands.

"What should we do, Lola?" Mr Stewart was clueless about what he should do, not expecting his daughter to run away at the speed of light from the eyes of everybody.

"Find her, catch her!" I told him, and without a moment's delay, we were hot on her heels. Due to the hesitation, however, we lost her completely.

"Sweet niblets. How did this happen? Everything's going haywire!" Mr Stewart had a look of frustration mixed with worry on his face.

"Doesn't matter now; it's a little to late to be undone. Right now, what we have to do his to find her." I instructed as we stared around wildly, trying to glimpse our quarry. "I'll go this way, Mr Montana, you go that way, and if you see Oliver, tell him to stop pigging himself at the buffet table and help!"

"Gotcha." Mr Stewart ran off in the direction I pointed to, yelling, "Hannah! Hannah, come out! Where are you?"

I ran in the general direction of the make-up rooms, calling out Hannah's name, mindful that we were still in our disguises as Lola and Hannah Montana.

"Hannah! Hannah!" I yelled for five minutes, unable to locate her. My sweaty brow was knotted to a worried frown, and my heart was pumping as fast as a mouse's. How did this humiliating catastrophe happen? Why did Miley suddenly lose it, and then run off in an attempt to escape from us?

"Excuse me, have you seen Hannah run this way?" I asked the same question over and over again whenever I met someone in the corridors. Mr Stewart and I checked everywhere: the changing rooms, the make-up rooms, the equipment storage, the buffet table (we found Oliver though). Finally, we arrived on stage.

"Lola, did you check everywhere?" Mr Stewart gasped as he mopped his sweaty brow with his equally sweaty hand, having ran a whole ten minutes around the set.

"I think so, Mr Montana. I checked the buffet table, the changing room, everywhere! I don't think she ran out of the building, or, I hope she didn't run out of the building!" I was on my wit's end.

Oliver appeared beside Mr Stewart, saying, "Have you checked the ladies' bathroom?"

"OH! No, I didn't!" A light bulb suddenly shot rays of piercing light in my head. "Thanks, Oliver!" I thanked him sincerely, glad that he was useful for once. Without hesitation, I blazed the trail as I ran around looking for the ladies' bathroom.

It was just next to the changing rooms. How on Earth did I miss that? I cursed myself as I pushed the door open with a mighty adrenaline-pumped heave.

"Hannah? Hannah?" I called out as I ran into the bathroom. To my utmost dismay, I lost my balance and slipped on the perpetually wet bathroom floor, falling on my back with a dull thud. I felt a blunt blow on the back of my head as my head banged on the filthy floor.

Very angrily, I promptly sat up and made to stand up, massaging the back of my head, straightening my wig to prevent it from falling off. I lost balance again and fell on my backside. Flying off the handle, I swore loudly at no one in particular.

"CURSES! Why are toilet floors ALWAYS wet?! ERRRGH!" I was irate and frustrated beyond control as I tried to get up on my feet, failing three times and therefore drenching my back and backside alike with the filthy puddles on the toilet floor.

I stood up, stable at last, stomping the floor as if it offended me personally.

"I hate this! Why is all this happening?!" I screamed at the wall, my head still full of steam, arms flailing, fists clenched.

Then, I heard a familiar voice sobbing, the sound coming from one of the cubicles.

"...I'm sorry...momma...I can't do it...I'm too weak..."

Hearing the voice sniff loudly, I realised it was Miley behind the unlocked cubicle door. Struggling to rein in my still-boiling emotions, I tried to be a little sympathetic as I slowly and carefully approached the door.

"Miley?" I whispered quietly, deciding to use her real name since no one was in the bathroom at the moment.

"...I'm too weak...I don't need this...I'm not deserving..."

It was difficult even for me to be sympathetic when you just went through a fit of rage. I could feel my anger dissipating, but my patience was very low. Trying not to be a little angry at Miley, I whispered once more, "Miley? Are you in there?"

"...I'm sorry momma...I'm not deserving...I just can't do this anymore..."

"Miley? Please come out. Miley?"

After five minutes of coaxing, Miley finally decided to respond to me, with a weak wavering shuddering choked voice, "Go away, Lilly. I don't want this anymore."

Despite the ambiguity of what she said the past five minutes in between sobs and sniffs, I understood her. Trying to gently persuade her to come out, I tried one more time, "Miley! Everyone's looking for you! Please come out!"

"Go away Lilly! I'm staying here; I don't deserve to go out!"

_OH FOR PETE'S SAKE!_ My patience ran dry, and bursting a nerve in my brain, I rammed the door wide open and made to stride in, only to see Miley, still wearing her Hannah wig, her face in her hands, sobbing miserably. I had a strange sensation surface within me; it felt like a surge of compassionate sympathy, and at the same time a little bit of impatience and even anger at Miley.

Hearing my voice soften significantly despite my impatience, I inquired, "Miley? What are you doing?"

Miley never moved her hands away from her face, and through them I heard a muffled answer, "I'm too weak...I can't do this...I don't want this...I'm sorry..."

"Miley, come with me!"

"I don't want...I don't need this..."

"Eurgh!"

I grunted in frustration and locking one arm under her armpit, and my other arm holding her shoulder, I hoisted the sobbing figure out of the cubicle and subsequently, the bathroom.

Once out of the bathroom, Miley shook me off. I saw her tear-stricken face twist into an angry expression as she broke away from my grip and faced me outright.

"Go away, Lilly! Just leave me alone!"

Miley was frustrated, but I was just as volatile. Indignantly, I reared up and folded my arms, not breaking the glare.

"Miley! I'm trying to help you!" I half-yelled at her accusingly.

"Well stop helping! I'm fine! I want to be on my own!" Miley yelled back hoarsely.

"Be on your own and do what? Brood? Cry?"

"Just get out of my sight! I want to be alone!"

"The only reason I'm trying to comfort you right now is because I am your best friend! Do you think I will not be the slightest bit annoyed due to all the trouble you've caused? Just because you've got issues? Do you take our sympathy for granted? I do feel annoyed sometimes at you troublesomeness, but I never abandoned you!"

"Then be annoyed! Start yelling at me! Just abandon me like you wanted to so many times! I don't care! I don't care any more!"

"Don't test my patience, Miley Stewart! I'm trying to help!"

"JUST GET LOST! I DON'T CARE ANY MORE!" Miley's eyes were streaming endlessly as she tore her throat asunder with her yelling.

"YOU DON'T CARE, BUT I DO! You're my sister, Miley! And I'm not going to let you sit by yourself and brood your life away! For Pete's sake, pull yourself together, girl!" I berated her with equal volume and ferocity.

"Then maybe you shouldn't care! Maybe you're just being nosy and annoying! For the last time, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

My patience barrier was finally breached. My eyes saw red, and whatever came out of my mouth thereon was impulsive and consciously hurtful.

Miley's done it at last. I flew off the handle, tears pouring down my eyes like small rivers.

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I WANT TO HELP YOU ANY MORE! IF YOU WANT TO BE THIS WAY, THEN FINE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND ANY MORE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU WANT TO DIE!"

I took a deep shuddering breath, as Miley hung her head low, before continuing.

"I'M HELPING YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! BUT IF YOU'RE GOING TO TREAT ME THIS WAY THEN I SHAN'T BOTHER AT ALL! WHY DO I EVEN WANT TO STAY FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE LIKE YOU?! JUST GET BACK IN THAT CUBICLE AND CRY TILL YOU DIE! I DON'T CARE EITHER!"

I took another breath before tearing my own throat into pieces.

"**I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND ANY MORE, MILEY STEWART! YOU ARE UNGRATEFUL AND YOU ****ARE**** UNDESERVING! CONSIDER OUR FRIENDSHIP OVERRRR!!!!**"

My throat felt like as if it was bleeding; I could feel a burning sensation in my voice box, and I think, after that deluge, I might have permanently damaged my voice.

Miley collapsed into a miserable pile of tears on the floor, positively bawling herself dry into her hands. Emotions ran unrestrained, her spirit was irreparably bruised, and instantly I felt in her heart, the pain she was suffering. Frustration, anger, sadness, grief, loss, and deep depression. I could also tell that Miley was actually apologetic.

But my temper was steadfast. Had I been a notch angrier I might have kicked her in the face. Despite empathetically reading Miley's emotions, I felt absolutely no sympathy towards her, nor did I feel like apologising. Right now, all I knew was that Miley Stewart was no longer my friend, and that I no longer knew her. Our friendship was over, and that maybe if she didn't care, nor should I.

"This is going to be some story! Say cheese, Hannah!" A sneaky voice from behind me rang out. I turned around in shock and laid my eyes on the same troublesome reporter Miley had been telling me about. He was holding a big camera in his hands, a flashing light appearing every time he took a picture of the miserable drama scene.

"This is some amazing story! I'm on a roll, haha! Let's see, "Hannah fights with friend due to some issues" sounds like a good headline! Or should that be, "Hannah reduced to tears during fight with a friend over private issues"? Smile now!" I never thought a voice could possibly be more annoying than his.

"HEY! What do you think you're doing?" Roxy's voice rang out.

The reporter turned around, saw Roxy and hightailed it, Roxy tearing off after him, her trademark war-cry resounding through the corridor. Seconds later, out of sight, a scream of agony was heard.

It was when I whipped around and spotted Roxy did I realise that Mr Stewart and Oliver were there too. Oliver was looking at me with utmost disappointment, shaking his head slowly, as if in denial. Mr Stewart had his eyes on his daughter, still slumped on the floor crying her heart out into her hands. Evidently, they too witnessed the scene in which I yelled at Miley till she collapsed.

Oliver's words were cold with disbelief and disappointment.

"Lilly, I cannot believe you would do something like this."

But I was not to be moved. With no wish to apologise, I gave Miley a dirty look of disgust and stormed off in a huff, completely ignoring Mr Stewart.

"Now hold up, Lilly. What did she do?" His voice was weak and deflated, with a little touch of desperate pity for Miley and I in it.

Who needs a "friend" who shrugs you off like that even when you're trying desperately to help? For her own best interests, too! Who needs a friend like her, anyway?

My brain was still steaming, emotions uncooling.

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Miley's POV:

I couldn't think about anything right now. I couldn't believe Lilly would smack me down like this. This was the worst fight we've ever had. I wanted to apologise, but I couldn't say it. Lilly wouldn't listen anyway. I had gone too far, and took her friendship and generosity for granted. Now it's over between us. I had just lost my best friend and sister.

Lilly was right. I AM ungrateful, and undeserving. I don't deserve anyone's sympathy at all, come to think of it. I'm just a useless pile, helpless and a burden to everyone around me. How many times had Lilly and probably everyone else been slightly annoyed at my behaviour just because I had issues getting over my grief? Many times, I dare to think. But they never blew up before. They were patient. Even when I wasn't.

I had gone too far. Lilly will probably never speak to me ever again.

I heard an odd ringing in my ears, and a diabolical voice whispering to me.

"_Tut, tut, tut. Look at you. First your mom, and now your best friend. I knew you would blow this. You've just lost your best friend. And to think, if you were a little more patient and careful with your words, you might actually be happier at this minute. Tut, tut, tut."_

For once, I agreed with the voice. Nobody's perfect, but I am far from perfect. I am horrible. Everybody makes mistakes, but I made a critical one that resulted in the loss of a friend. In other words, I don't deserve to live.

I never had everything I always wanted, and I certainly wasn't "just like you", nor did I resemble anyone else. I kept singing the song "True Friend", but did I actually mean those words? I discovered, here and now, I never did.

And I certainly hadn't got nerve.

Mom, are you disappointed? Are you looking at me, feeling an awful sense of a letdown?

I'm sorry mom, I'm just too weak...

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Cycling over to Robbie Ray's POV:

I could sense the miasma of conflicting emotions clashing against perception of reality in Miley. Her wig askew, face twisted as if in pain, eyes running dry of tears, she looked like anything but a picture of beauty. Her heart-rending miserable sobs and wails penetrated my solid wall of emotional detachment, and for once I realised fully just how much my little girl was going through.

Lilly stomped out of our sight, arms folded, lips pursed. Oliver and I made to bring Miley out of here before anyone else notices the ignominious scene. As I gathered Miley into my arms and pulled her onto her feet, carefully but quickly straightening her wig, I heard myself whisper into her ear, "You're going to be fine bud. Let's go home, now. The show's over, and you can talk to Lilly about this tomorrow."

I turned around to Oliver and ordered flatly, "Oliver, go find Lilly and Roxy. We're leaving."

"Right, Mr Stewart." Oliver ran off to catch Lilly.

I had to hoist Miley into my arms in order to progress to the limo waiting outside the studio. Oliver appeared seconds after, lugging Lilly along by the wrist. Roxy came up behind them, holding camera snapped cleanly into two, saying, "Robbie Ray! The show's not over yet!"

I did not care. As the manager of Hannah Montana I had every right to withdraw from a show. And right now, home is what Miley needed.

"I'm gonna give them a call, Roxy. We're backing out of the show, and I don't care that we've still got more than ten minutes in the show. What Miley needs now most of all is home." I said resolutely.

"A responsible parent! Well said indeed, Robbie Ray!" Roxy exclaimed, impressed that I too felt that I needed to take part in being Hannah's, no, Miley's bodyguard. "Alright, let's just tell them in their face we're leaving; they'll never say no when Roxy's in the house." she added.

"You know what, Roxy? Good idea!" I followed her back into the studio. We declared that Hannah would be leaving, and that the last ten minutes was for them to improvise. In the light of Roxy giving the director a penetrating threatening stare, the director and the rest of the crew had nothing to say in objection.

What ever happened, we'll deal with tomorrow.

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I told you I would be hard pressed for time over here, and so following my predictions, this Mother's Day part will be split into more than just four parts, but a possible five-or-six-parts. I am terribly sorry for this lack of organisation, but I still have to go to school; I don't live in a place where the summer holidays are well under way. School work is also starting to get heavy. So please, bear with me, and enjoy while I slave off over here. Feel free to drop a comment or two; any reviews will be highly appreciated.

Merci beaucoup.

Terrorking Tragedian


	10. Mother's Day: Confession

I'm doing the best I can; now that I've begun, I can't stop lest I lose the momentum. Nevertheless, the immense workload is taking its toll on me, and I find myself in desperate need of a rest. Thankfully, we approach the weekend.

And for the people who wonder where I actually live: Let me tell you something about the education system in Singapore. The school curriculum is not like many of the countries in the world. Unlike, for example, USA, we do not have definite seasons. Therefore, we follow a system that looks like this: School starts in January, one week break in mid-March before resuming schooling, one month holiday in June before resuming schooling in the last week of June, then another one week break in early-September before the final examinations. And then, the holiday in mid-November is the fourth and final holiday of the year lasting one-and-a-half months. I am told that Australia also follows this system (please correct me if I'm wrong).

I imagine that in many other countries, the major holiday is the summer holiday, which lasts about three months, maybe less, with some minor breaks in between like Christmas holiday. Therefore, while many of you are staying up late partying at night, I am staying up late slaving off at night. School in Singapore usually starts around 7am to 7.30am, and there is no definite time when school ends (taking into account that there are still after-school activities).

Anyway, that's enough about my miserable life. Let's get on with the story, shall we? This chapter includes more about how Lilly thinks about reconciling with Miley, but I won't be getting to the part where they actually become friends again for a while. At least let the drama flow. This chapter is actually more of an extension of the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

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Lilly's POV from here on:

"_I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I WANT TO HELP YOU ANY MORE! IF YOU WANT TO BE THIS WAY, THEN FINE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND ANY MORE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU WANT TO DIE!"_

"_I'M HELPING YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! BUT IF YOU'RE GOING TO TREAT ME THIS WAY THEN I SHAN'T BOTHER AT ALL! WHY DO I EVEN WANT TO STAY FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE LIKE YOU?! JUST GET BACK IN THAT CUBICLE AND CRY TILL YOU DIE! I DON'T CARE EITHER!"_

"_**I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND ANY MORE, MILEY STEWART! YOU ARE UNGRATEFUL AND YOU ****ARE**** UNDESERVING! CONSIDER OUR FRIENDSHIP OVERRRR!!!!**"_

Even now, those words resounded in my head, bouncing around the walls of my mind like undying echoes. Now that I've calmed down and reviewed the scene which Miley and I caused, I began to feel the slightest gnawing sensation of shame and awkwardness. What I said not only sounded cruel and hurtful, but it was unreasonable. Miley was a nervous wreck when I got to her, and in other words, was somewhat emotionally unstable. Now that I've thought about it, I think I might have gone too far. I should not have lost my temper with her. A washing-feel cold shivering sensation was felt inside me and outside alike, as if icy water was poured over me. It was disappointment, with myself.

I looked at Miley sitting beside me on the limo, next to the window. She looked like a wreck alright; she was no longer crying, nor was she sobbing, but she simply fixed her eyes on her fists, clenched and placed neatly on her lap. She was absolutely silent; no doubt she was also thinking about what I had just said. On her head, the Hannah wig sat sadly.

I wanted to say sorry, but somehow, I couldn't get those words out of my mouth. I couldn't get anything out of my mouth. It's like as if we were no longer on speaking terms. The awkward silence was unbearable, and every now and then I would fidget and shift uncomfortably, keeping my eyes mainly out of the window. Miley, however, remained motionless, not even blinking.

Oliver, though, had lots to say to me. Making sure Miley could hear, he turned around on his seat in front of mine and practically berated me for my previous lack of sensitivity.

"I cannot believe you can say such things to your best friend, Lilly! You knew what was happening, didn't you? You saw it happen, whatever it was! I don't think screaming at your friend for being unable to get over some emotional issues is a very sensitive thing to do!"

Furious and indignant despite my private thoughts, I rebutted him. Actually, there was nothing I could say; I was secretly ashamed of myself.

"Hey, I was getting impatient! And since when have you learnt to be so sensitive?"

"Getting impatient is not an excuse! You know Miley needs your help! But instead, you scream all those things at her, just when she needs help the most! That is so unlike you, Lilly!"

"Well, I'm so sorry, then, Oliver!"

"It's not me whom you should apologise to, it's - "

"Drop it Oliver."

Miley spoke up suddenly, her voice flat and emotionless. Oliver instantly stopped talking, as if someone had just pushed a pillow onto his face and held it there. The temperature in the limo dropped significantly, and sensing that the best thing to do right now was to sit and be quiet, Oliver turned around and crossed his arms, probably bursting to yell at me some more.

And there we sat, in the limo, for what felt like an eternity, waiting for Mr Stewart and Roxy to come back. The silence was so thick we would probably have suffocated if it were smoke. All the while a voice in my head called conscience started to pick up where Oliver had left off.

"_You shouldn't have done it, Lilly. You feel guilty, don't you? Guilty is the word. Guilt upon guilt. Why did you blow your top at your friend just when she needed you the most? Oliver's right; you were being a little insensitive. Miley wasn't thinking straight at the moment; can you really blame her for saying all those things and yelling at you to get out of her sight? What would you have done if you were in her shoes?"_

But how do I apologise to her? Will she listen to me, after all that I've said?

"Miley? Where are you going?" Oliver said suddenly. I looked around and saw Miley get out of the limo. Was she trying to get away from me? Was she afraid of me, perhaps? I sincerely hoped Miley wasn't leaving because of me...

"Hey, Miley! Wait up! Where're you going?" Oliver opened the door as well and followed her back into the building. Feeling that I should follow suit, I got out, muttering a hasty apology for the driver Andy.

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Meanwhile, Robbie was negotiating with the director:

Well, the director had nothing to say, watching Roxy carefully, but Wendy tried to stop us leaving early.

"But Mr Montana! We've got ten more minutes left for Hannah! You can't leave us hanging over here! This is a live show!"

"Well, I'm afraid Hannah's in no condition to do the remainder of the show, so if you can find a replacement or something, that'll be good." I tried to reason with her.

"But this departure is too sudden and all our viewers will be wondering what happened on this show! What do you think would happen if you were one of the audience, watching the show go well and all when all of the sudden, Hannah takes off, crying?" Wendy rebutted.

"I WAS one of the audience. And yes, I think there will be a certain amount of chaos, but as manager and father of Hannah, I feel that it is my ultimate responsibility to look after my child's health, and I say, Hannah needs to go home."

"Mr Montana, this is so unreasonable! So what happens to our show now?!"

The director was silent, trying to stay out of this as much as possible. But I could tell, and I was sure everyone felt so at the moment, that the abrupt departure of Hannah will be the seed of confusion and trouble for us. Nevertheless, I stuck to my point, convinced that Miley had had enough for one day.

I was wrong.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm ready to do the show and get it over with."

Hannah appeared at the door, looking like a complete mess and wreck. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was tear-stricken, and she was visibly sagging, as if she had exhausted all of her strength. But I could see her staunch spirit trying to muster up some courage with meager determination. Tonight, Miley was an impregnable fortress.

I could not help but feel proud of her, despite my insistence that we should be going home.

"Honey, you can't be doing to show like this. We're going home."

"You see, Mr Montana? Even Hannah wants to finish the show! I don't think anyone would want a show-stopper! What say you now, Mr Montana?" Wendy increased her gusto, heartened upon seeing Hannah return onset.

I didn't know what to say at all. I was spared the trouble, however, when Miley spoke up again, albeit in a flat expressionless and weak voice.

"I can't leave the show so suddenly like this. If I leave, people are going to be confused, and I will have done something very selfish. I don't want to be labeled as selfish; Lilly's done it already. I'm going back to finish the show, and God help me if I mess up again!"

"Honey, who's going to help you if you start again on stage later?"

"You are. You can sit next to me." Miley said matter-of-factly.

I was fresh out of words to argue with. Miley had won.

"Well, we've got a minute before the commercials end, so everyone get ready to resume your posts! Hannah, you'll need a touch-up on your make-up, don't you?" The director suddenly burst out of his "silent stone gargoyle" mode and assumed command once more.

"No, I don't need a touch-up." Miley calmly refused. Turning to Roxy, she added, "Roxy, can you find Lilly and Oliver please? And if you find them, ask them if they want to come and watch. Don't worry, Roxy, I'll be fine."

"And she's got her Daddy next to her." I added after her.

Roxy shrugged and left to look for Lilly and Oliver, apparently having lost Miley. I noticed perspiration on Hannah's forehead. Did she run all the way here, looking for us, or was she thinking about the ten minutes later?

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"And we're back to the show! With Wendy Cruz and Hannah Montana!"

The audience were given the cue to applaud loudly, and Wendy waved at them passionately. Hannah sat on the chair opposite of Wendy's, looking tired but determined. I sat beside her, holding her hands in mine.

"So Hannah, care to explain what happened that made you run off before the commercial break?" Wendy's first question was. The audience sat up straighter, listening attentively.

Miley was hesitant.

"Well...I had a little...panic attack...or something like that...and I felt I needed to scootle my bootle out of here..."

"We witnessed you bursting into tears just now. The caller was mystified, and so were all of us. Are you alright, Hannah?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Then what made you cry on-screen just now? Was it the sad story the caller told? Or was it something else?"

I could tell that the questions were getting closer and closer to Hannah revealing her underside. Nobody knew Hannah had not a mother, yet. Nobody expected Hannah to be emotionally scarred. But as I looked at Miley sitting next to me looking both very jumpy and very uncertain, I had a feeling that Miley was ready to divulge that little detail...

"Well, this subject is actually a very sensitive one for me...I mean, that girl's mother...it reminds me of..."

Miley was not sure about how she was going to say it. Nervously, she gave me a glance. I nodded in reply, egging her on to do what she wanted to do.

"Reminds you of what? What, Hannah?" Wendy pressed on quickly.

"Well...erm...it was very reminiscent. I mean, the burning building collapsing, killing someone trapped in it, it reminded me of something really tragic." Miley began vaguely.

"And that is...?" Wendy pried on. She was a tad annoying, but it's her job to extract information as an interviewer.

"It's a very sensitive subject..." Miley's voice trailed away into nothingness as she looked at me once more, as if trying to say, "Should I say it?"

I nodded. "Yes. Do it, if you think you want to." was what I said to her telepathically.

Closing her eyes in meditation, she took a deep breath and exhaled before the big confession.

"I'm going to come out clean and say this. The reason why I ran off crying just now was because it reminded me so much about something that actually happened to me. I had a sudden panic attack, and I was unable to control myself."

Taking another deep breath, she continued, "Also, why is this subject so sensitive to me. I don't have a mom. My mom died four years ago, our burning home falling on top of her. That's why the caller's story gave me a sudden panic attack; it was so similar to what actually happened to me. What happened to my mom..."

Miley took a very deep, shuddering breath and exhaled very slowly, trying to rein in her emotions. I could tell, though, that she was also partially relieved. A heavy burden was removed off her shoulders, now that this piece of secret was out of the bag.

The audience only heard "My mom died four years ago", and when they realised what their favourite pop idol was saying, they reeled back in shock. Soon mutterings and whispers loud enough to carry erupted all over the room.

Wendy was speechless for a few seconds. When she finally found her tongue, all she could say was, "I'm...sorry...?"

Miley chuckled mirthlessly.

"And even though it's been four years, I still haven't gotten over it yet. I don't know why; I just never let it go. Daddy understands..." Miley hugged my arm for support, glancing at me for a second. Behind her calm demeanor, I could feel her shaking. Of fear? Of effort? Or was she scared about how the rest of them reacted?

"So...Hannah Montana has a soft underbelly...so I think that's the reason why your Dad wrote the song "I Miss You"?" Wendy regained full ability to use her tongue.

"No, actually, she wrote that song with her mom. It was originally dedicated to her granddad, but after the...thing that happened...she sang it during the funeral, she did." I spoke up for Miley, who seemed to be shaking violently now. Maybe it was cold.

Yes. The funeral. I remembered the time when all of us were in black, and Miley completely lost her head and cried over the coffin till her throat started to bleed. When it was time for the eulogy, she sang the song. It fitted everyone's thoughts at the moment perfectly; every phrase was meaningful and the entire lyrics was free of ambiguity.

The audience were unsettling. Wendy had to hold up her hand to pacify them in order to get on with the show.

"So everything you said just now: the baking cakes at home on Mother's Day and the shopping thing, all those were lies?" Wendy meant no accusation.

"Yup. I'm not inclined to tell you what we actually did on Mother's Day before she passed away. But the song...that's the reason I wanted to record it and include it in the album. I wanted to find a way to appreciate the song. Recognise it. Though I'm still not sure whether Momma's watching from above or not..."

The interview went on for another five minutes, with some callers coming in and expressing their surprise at the news that Hannah had lost her mother tragically, and offering their sympathy. Every second that went by was relative to the increasing force Miley used to grip my arm. Tighter and tighter she held onto my arm, as if trying desperately to control herself and avoid breaking down in front of the live TV cameras again.

She failed though. When Wendy finally dismissed everyone from the show, Miley reached breaking point.

"Right! That's about all the time that we have, so thank you all and good night! Remember to catch more about our hottest celebrities and their VERY surprising news and such on Wake Up, it's Wendy! next Friday!" Wendy announced the end of the show.

Miley turned to me and whispered, "Thanks for being here for me Dad."

"My pleasure, honey."

We pulled into a warm embrace, in which I totally forgot about the cameras, and Miley did not care about them. Many in the audience went, "Aww!" upon laying their eyes on the beautiful moment between their pop star and her father.

"I really miss her, Daddy..."

"Me too, bud. You know what, I'm proud of you. You stayed strong and told everyone the truth. Now the only thing we have to be afraid of is how the tabloids and the press are going to react now that they know Hannah is grieving."

I realised that a stray tear was trickling down Miley's eye.

"But what about Lilly and I having a fight just now?"

"I don't think people need to know about that, love. No one noticed. You're going to be fine."

Miley snuggled deep into my chest and began to cry, this time because of mixed feelings of sadness, relief and uncertainty. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to comfort her by stroking her (fake, actually) hair, the way we would do it whenever she needed comfort.

I was totally aware that everyone, including Wendy, Lilly, Oliver and Roxy were watching. But I did not care. Tonight, Miley was an impregnable fortress. And I was the piece of earth where she built her fortress on.

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Phew! Yes, it's done! I've finally figured out how to end off this Mother's Day part. Now, just one more extension to go and I will get on with a new plot line in this story. Thank you all for your kind patience, and once again I deeply appreciate your sympathy.

By the way, I'd just like to know, how did you all feel about the fight between Miley and Lilly in the previous chapter. Was it too much? Or was it too little? Did you feel that Lilly should have said something more tactless, or do you think there should have been some kind of physical fight happening? (Please don't suggest the last one, HA!) Anyway, I'd just like an opinion or two about the fight between the sisters. Thanks.

And to Ms (or Mr, I'm never too sure) Mandyj74, your wish came true!

Terrorking Tragedian


	11. Mother's Day: Family Reunion in TN

A dozen more brilliant ideas burst into bloom in my head, so much so that I feel that the current existing 4 stories of mine are suffering a block. Now I wage an internal battle with myself; should I halt these stories temporarily? Or should I finish them first? And not enough time there is for me to get on with writing.

I'm going through a period of strife within my family right now, hence one more reason as to why I have so little motivation and energy to get on with my job here. I think I can use these experiences and channel them into art, but that would have to wait.

For now, enjoy this chapter. It's the last of the overly-long six-part chapter of Mother's Day.

Disclaimer: Do I have time for this? I don't have time to buy Hannah Montana even if I wanted to...

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Night passed uneventfully, yet there was an air of celebration around Miley and her father. By the time they've reached home, Jackson was at the door, waiting for them.

"Miles! I saw you on TV just now! I still have trouble believing you just did whatever you did!"

By the sound of his voice, Jackson seemed to be impressed than anything. It was highly incredible; the whole thing. It's not everyday a famous pop princess breaks down into tears on television, and then run off the set before reappearing again only to divulge a dark tragic secret in front of thousands, possibly millions, of viewers.

"Well, son, none of us could, what you gotta give it up for your sister for being unbeatable out there." Robbie Ray praised Miley with shining pride.

Miley beamed at them both as she skipped past Jackson holding the door open into the living room. Moments later, Jackson closed the door after his father entered, shutting out the cold winds of the night. Lilly and Oliver were dropped off in front of their houses prior to their return home, Lilly sitting in staunch silence the whole time, and Oliver measuring her up in equal silence. Miley fell asleep on the limo, unaware of the frigid atmosphere, not noticing the occasional hostile glances between her feuding best friends.

"Everyone saw you, Miles! You just sorta freaked out and hightailed it before the commercials came. Oh, right, and you were crying." said Jackson, relieving the time when he was watching the live show.

"I don't think I need a reminder on that." Miley said calmly.

"Then you came back with Dad and you told everyone about...that! And you even started crying again at the end. I mean...that was..." Jackson was casting around for the appropriate words, "that was brave!"

Jackson was clearly lost for words due to incredulity. Miley beamed even broader at him before setting herself down onto the couch.

"Well, kids, let's all get some sleep. We don't want to be tired and all that tomorrow when we head back home for the weekend." Robbie Ray announced, advising them that it was time to pack lightly and go to bed.

Every Mother's Day was a special event for the Stewart family of three. On the eve of the said occasion, which was a Saturday, Robbie Ray would drive out of Malibu with Jackson and Miley back to hometown Nashville in Tennessee. The departure time would be around noon, and when night falls the rest of the Stewart family would greet them most warmly. But it wasn't an ordinary family reunion.

On Sunday morning, the Stewart family of three would have a picnic next to the tombstone of their beloved mother of the family. Buried in their family's own private land, they had every liberty to do what they wanted, and the morning would be full of singing and chatting and decorating the tombstones. For that part of the Stewart land served as a graveyard, a resting place for the relatives bearing the name of Stewart. Miley would get up at six in the morning, laying out the mat and putting a fresh bouquet of roses in front of her mother's tombstone. The rest of them, all the members of the family, would join in like a huge raucous party. From dawn till the late afternoon there will be much joy and laughter in the graveyard, by Brooke's side.

But dusk will inevitably fall, and before it was too late, the Stewart three would bid the rest of their family farewell and drive out of Nashville, back to Malibu. It was an annual event. By the time they return to Malibu, they would have to get ready for Monday, and life would resume its usual pace.

Miley looked forward to this annual event eagerly. Though it did pain her a little that the mother she would be visiting would be a stone, not in flesh.

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"Miley! Are you there? I need to talk to you!"

Lilly's voice rang from outside the door at eleven in the morning. The three Stewarts were packed and almost ready to go. Just one more hour before departure.

Miley was mildly surprised when she heard Lilly calling her name. _I thought she wasn't my friend anymore. Why is she here?_

Upon opening up the door, Miley stared in shock at Lilly. Lilly's eyes were red and puffy, she looked like as if she'd been through a particularly windy storm, and there was apology written all over her face.

"What the Sam-heck happened to you?" Miley blurted out.

Not moving, but still looking at her used-to-be-best friend pleadingly, Lilly muttered flatly in sincere apology, "I'm sorry Miley. I shouldn't have said those terrible things. I didn't know what I was saying, and I should have known that you probably weren't thinking right at the time. It was cruel, and it was unreasonable. Even I wish never to hear such things again."

Dropping her gaze onto Miley's red shoes, Lilly said inaudibly, "If you want to yell at me right now, I'll gladly take it. I deserve it. Forgive me, Miley."

Miley's facial expression changed into one of cruel and callous unforgivingness. Her voice nonchalant, she said frigidly, "I thought you didn't care anymore. You said it yourself."

Lilly gulped and pleaded, "I take it back! I take everything back! I didn't mean it, I -"

"Funny. It sounded very deliberate when you yelled at me last night. Maybe you were always a hypocrite?" said Miley scathingly, her arms folded, leaning against the door.

"NO NO NO!" Lilly wailed, flailing her arms about. "I couldn't sleep last night. I was feeling excruciatingly guilty, and I was thinking all night long. If I were you, it would definitely sound very unkind."

"It was." said Miley quietly.

"I should have known that this was a little sensitive for you..." Lilly's voice faltered and trailed into nothingness, looking a little awkward. She was still staring at Miley's red shoes, playing with her fingers nervously. Pulling her gaze off the shoes and fixing it directly on Miley's eyes, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me."

Miley contemplated forgiveness for a moment. Those rings and the redness around Lilly's eyes gave the impression that Lilly was crying all night long, and it sure took a lot of nerve to walk up and apologise. But still...

"What about me being ungrateful and undeserving?" Miley said accusingly.

To that, Lilly replied awkwardly, "Well, you were a little bit unreasonable, but I suppose it's because you were...er...not in a right state of mind at the time..."

Miley looked down herself, thinking hard. Had she, after all, been unreasonable? Had she been a little bratty and ungrateful after all? Was she really taking Lilly's friendship for granted? Was this all HER fault in the first place?

"It's my fault, Lilly. I WAS being unreasonable. And if I hadn't said those things first, what happened last night would never have happened."

It was Miley's turn to apologise. She spoke to her feet, "I'm sorry, Lilly. You shouldn't be."

"No! I am the one to blame! You have...problems coping! I know that! It was callous of me to disregard that you were quite sensitive about this topic!"

"Yes, you knew that. And you stuck with me all this time, even when you admitted that you sometimes felt annoyed. I was quite troublesome, wasn't I? But you stuck with me. And yet, I still yelled at you..." Miley could feel her cheeks burning with shame and guilt, and tears stung her eyes.

"Well..."

"It's me who should be sorry. Forgive me, Lilly."

"You know what, I don't even want to let's just forget about what happened last night. It'll be a lot easier." Lilly suggested, holding out a palm. "Friends?" she added imploringly.

A sincere smile broke out on Miley's face, and she took the palm, saying, "Okay. Friends."

Stifling a sob, Lilly pulled her best friend into a warm embrace of reconciliation. There at the door, the two sisters reunited under the banner of friendship, all enmity forgotten. Unknown to them, Robbie Ray was watching the heart-warming scene from the stairs.

Breaking the embrace, Miley promptly said, "We're going back to Tennessee for the weekend. It's a family reunion thing...even the dead join us...if you know what I'm talking about."

"I know, and this year I'm coming with you!" said Lilly brightly.

"Blonde girl say what?"

"Mm-hmm! My mom and dad wanted to come along with you. We don't have much to do on Mother's Day anyway, and they thought it was time for something interesting. We packed last night, but they were wondering whether your dad and more importantly, you, would allow us to come along or not. So I came over to apologise first. Of course, once you're leaving, we'll tag along."

"But what about Oliver?" Miley asked.

"Oh he can't come. He and his mom got some kind of convention to go to – really boring, I know. Too bad for him, then."

"Well, Lilly, you can always feel welcome to join the party. And you parents too." Robbie Ray said, shouldering his rucksack. "Tell your parents to wait outside on the pavement; we'll be leaving in five minutes. Once we hit the road, just follow our car, and we'll get there in about six hours." he added.

Miley and Lilly beamed at Robbie Ray, and eyes twinkling merrily with excitement, Lilly exclaimed, "Thank you so much, Mr Stewart! I'll go tell Mom and Dad right away!" With that, she skipped off.

"JACKSON! GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Robbie Ray called out to his son in the bathroom.

"Wait Dad! I've got a few protruding nose hairs, and if I don't trim them, Aunt Pearl is going to go all IS-THAT-A-JUNGLE-IN-THERE again!" was the reply.

"The Truscotts are waiting for us! Hurry up!" Robbie Ray roared. Turning to Miley, he said, "Get your stuff. I'll go get the car and wait on the pavement outside."

"Okay dad."

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The Stewart farmstead lay around the countryside outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee. The meeting point for reunion would usually be outside Mamaw Ruthie's house, the facade big and painted white. Night approached, and by the time Robbie Ray alighted from his car to greet his many siblings, it was six pm according to the local time. Miley could feel her legs cramping after the long endless drive. Jackson was seated beside his father, holding a map and giving directions. Now she couldn't wait to stretch herself out good. Muffling a yawn, she grabbed her rucksack and alighted, embracing the warm air of the approaching summer.

"Miley!" Aunt Dolly called from the crowd. The rest of her relatives all turned from greeting Robbie Ray and Jackson to welcoming Miley.

"Uncle Earl! Aunt Max! Scooby! You're all here!"

The Truscotts pulled up moments later. The Stewarts stared in curious silence as the three Truscotts alighted, each looking worn out after the long journey. Lilly stumbled out of the back seat and stretched herself out with a huge yawn before staring, awed, at the gaggle of country folk eyeing them in turn, with the exception of Dolly, who knew Lilly personally.

"My fellow Stewarts. May I introduce you to the Truscotts. Truscotts, these are some of our family." Robbie Ray announced. "They are Miley's friends, and this time they've decided to come along with us for tomorrow."

There was much commotion as the Stewarts greeted the Truscotts, shaking hands warmly. Mr Truscott took Uncle Earl's hand and introduced himself, "Good evening, Mr Stewart. I am Will Truscott."

"Well howdy, Will! This man here's Earl. Earl Stewart." Uncle Earl beat his chest self-importantly.

"My name is Mary Truscott." Lilly's mom introduced herself to the family of Stewart as well. Miley put her hands around Lilly's shoulders and said to her family, "Guys! This is my best friend, Lilly Truscott. Lilly, meet my family!"

The greeting session was brought into Mamaw Stewart's house as soon as the cold winds of night began to blow.

"Wow, Miley! I knew you had an extensive family, but I never thought this is just PART of your family!" Lilly said excitedly, looking around the entrance hall.

"You haven't seen all of it yet. Wait till we head to the graveyard tomorrow." Miley hinted.

"Make yourselves at home. Luann will show you the guest rooms." Mamaw said, gesturing pointedly at Luann. Luann nodded and herded the Truscotts off, saying, "This way folks! Just follow me!"

Lilly cast Luann a dark look before leaving the entrance hall after her parents. Miley shrugged and followed Robbie Ray and Jackson as they found their specially reserved rooms in the left wing of the house.

Dinner was a warm affair. The Truscotts were treated like neither royalty nor outsiders; rather, they felt like part of the Stewart family. Passing the gravy boat around, chatting with their new friends over their plates, and cracking each other up occasionally with interesting life stories and experiences, the Truscotts had in fact never felt more like a family than they did now. Everyone was laughing jovially as they conversed, and halfway through the dinner Robbie Ray, his brothers Bobby Ray and Earl and Mr Truscott started singing "I've Been Working On The Railroad", the rest of the family laughing and clapping along with them. Uncle Earl played the fiddle as they sang along:

_I've been working on the railroad_

_All the livelong day_

_I've been working on the railroad_

_Just to pass the time away_

_Can't you hear the whistle blowing_

_Rise up so early in the morn_

_Can't you hear the captain shouting_

_Dinah, blow your horn!_

Miley and Lilly joined in later into the song, clapping in tune to the music. Somewhere beside them, Luann gave a little scoff.

_Dinah, won't you blow_

_Dinah, won't you blow_

_Dinah, won't you blow your ho-o-orn_

_Dinah, won't you blow_

_Dinah, won't you blow_

_Dinah, won't you blow your horn_

When the song ended, everyone in the room cheered. The Truscotts had never met a more jolly bunch than the Stewarts at their family reunion.

"And so it was like, my boss told me that they would have to import those goods all the way from Egypt. I swear, the workload these days..." Mr Truscott was saying to Uncle Zeke.

"Well partner, I'll just say I'm sorry for you. I say that to anyone who tells me things I don't understand." Uncle Zeke replied casually, watching Luann aim a piece of beef at Miley but miss and hit Shaggy in the eye.

An hour later, the desserts were brought out, and the table was cleared for the pies. Mamaw promptly smacked Robbie Ray's hand as he reached out for a slice, snapping, "Robbie Ray Stewart! How big do you want to get?"

"Oh come on, Momma! I only come back once a year!" Robbie Ray protested. Meanwhile a slice of pie landed with a sickening smack on Lilly's nose. Lilly shot a death glare at Luann, who shrunk back and muttered, "Oops."

Halfway through dessert the happy family burst into song once more, Robbie Ray leading on his guitar, "Five Hundred Miles".

_If you miss the train I'm on_

_You will know that I am gone_

_You can hear the whistle blow_

_A hundred miles_

This time, the entire family, along with the Truscotts as well, joined in the chorus of the well-known song.

_A hundred miles_

_A hundred miles_

_A hundred miles_

_A hundred miles_

_You can hear the whistle blow_

_A hundred miles_

The lot sang merrily, but following the final song of the night "Three Blind Mice", the grandfather clock struck nine. It was time for bed.

The Stewarts dispersed; usually only Mamaw, Bobby Ray and Luann lived in this house. As the rest of the family returned to their homes, the Truscotts made their way upstairs to turn in for the night.

"I swear. We had so much fun tonight!" Lilly said to Miley, stifling a yawn. Miley beamed.

"Just get ready for bed. We'll be up at six tomorrow morning." Miley said simply.

By the time the grandfather clock struck ten, the lights were snuffed out. The house was quiet, and all its inhabitants were asleep, dreaming about the next day.

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I'm so sorry! I absolutely must stop here lest I be late for school! Five minutes left for me before I leave, I see. Argh, I didn't expect it to take so long! I FEEL SO SCREWED!

Due to the time constraint, I'm forced to add just one last extension behind this chapter, making this a seven-part. I SWEAR! Just one more extension to go!

**I'M SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT HAVING TO STOP HERE! **Darn! Why does school have to start so early? Gotta dash!

Terrorking Tragedian will return to finish this soon.


	12. Mother's Day: Que Sera Sera

Out of my head at last. Finally, I can get on with the two plot elements I've planned for this story. Now, why am I dragging this so long? I don't know, but it seems that there is more than just three chapter's worth of words for the subject of Mother's Day. I made it a total 7 chapters focusing on these three days (two being the focus actually). I swear it gets better after this.

And yes, about the words on the tombstone, some sharp eyed people might notice major edits in expression I made. I'll change the previous one in chapter three soon.

Please tell me whether you like the way I began this chapter or not. My teacher says I need to improve on the way I begin a narrative essay; it must be arresting and impactful. I think I did a good job, but I'm not the best judge.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana. Que Sera Sera is a song by Doris Day, and while I do not know to whom the credit goes to, I don't own that either. Any songs that you recognise in this chapter, keep in mind, their NOT MINE. Savvy?

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The faintest glimmers of sun light illuminated the dark sky, turning it dark blue. Morning had dawned, and the sun began to prevail over the looming darkness of night once again for the day. While the cold night winds continued to blow and howl, causing rustles of the trees and leaves, Miley stood before the tombstone of her mother's, a trace of tears visible on her somewhat pale cheeks. On her face she wore a sad longing smile.

_Brooke Stewart_

_Possessing an overwhelming aura of warmth, compassion_

_and kindness_

_Tragically taken from us; the Lord wills it_

_Loving wife and doting mother_

_A greatest loss to all_

_She will be missed_

_Born 19/6/1977_

_Died 02/6/2003_

The following words were consumed by the flowers and grass that began to grow on the tombstone. They were never treated as weeds; rather, they decorated the tombstone with seeming daisy chains. Behind the tombstone stood a large ancient yew, casting a cool shadow on the tomb during the hot and sultry Tennessee afternoons.

"Been up for a while now, have you, cuz?" A soft and uncharacteristically gentle voice blended into the winds.

Light rustling sounds were heard; footsteps of a careful hesitating cat. The song of peace and reminiscence began to play quietly, its melody sorrowful; its nature evanescent. Miley turned around slowly, maintaining her sombre expression. Her twin cousin was slowly pacing towards the laid-out and prepared picnic site, dressed in her red shirt, blue jeans, her hair done in plaited pigtails, and donning a characteristic straw hat and a pair of thick spectacles.

Luann stopped beside her twin, pulling her sympathetic gaze away from her momentarily to behold the cold hard tombstone.

"Luann..."

Miley looked at Luann, greeting her with a quiet murmur.

"I remember Auntie too." Luann began. "Not as much as you did, but everyone missed her lots. She was always very nice and pleasant."

There was a momentary silence between the two, the sounds of nature suddenly reaching a crescendo. The violent winds shook the trees even more, and it seemed that rain was eminent.

Then Luann broke the silence.

"She always took care of everyone. Like when we were playing in the sunflower field, and I got stung by bee. I started crying, and you got really scared and started crying too. She ran up to us and carried me back to Daddy's house and even pulled the sting out of my arm. I remembered the hurt of the sting and the soothing of the pain with vinegar later."

Miley nodded, whispering, "We were seven then, weren't we? I remember Uncle Bobby wouldn't stop yelling."

Another period of silence. Every once in a blue moon, Luann would become more sentimental become capable of having a decent conversation with her cousin. Despite their differences, Miley and Luann were very closely blood-related; who'd ever heard of identical twin cousins?

"Auntie was nice to everyone." Luann said suddenly. "Don't you remember all the times when you were still in Tennessee, and she was still..."

"With us." Miley finished the sentence with a slightly bitter tone. "Yes, I do Luann."

"Moo-moo Mary giving birth, Christmas, New Year celebrations, parties every time Uncle Robbie won something great or enjoyed success, and birthdays..." Luann began listing the occasions she could remember on the spot.

"Why are you crying, Miley?" She asked softly, noticing the small beads of tears descending like a rain of pearls run down Miley's face.

"You weren't there to see it, Luann." Miley said in a low dark voice. "I never forgot the day our house had that gas explosion."

"Sweet nibblets, Miley..." Luann began, slightly astonished. "That was years ago..."

"You don't know how it felt. You'll never know how it felt. Why? Because you weren't there to see it. And if you WERE there, you might not forget it in a hurry either." Miley continued, mixed feelings of anger aimed at no one in particular and terrible sadness permeating her voice.

Luann had nothing to say. She agreed silently; the scene must have been extremely traumatic for Miley, and she would never understand the magnitude of the shock unless she witnessed something similar herself.

"We come back every year to see her. Imagine how different life would be if that day never happened..." Miley whispered wistfully.

"You'll not be class president?" Luann said brightly, attempting humour to comfort her scarred cousin. Miley laughed mirthlessly.

"I would give anything to reverse time and prevent that day from happening, even if I have to sacrifice a hundred years of class presidency." She continued, with a tone of anger.

"But, then you, Jackson and Uncle Robbie would never have moved to California. You would never have met new best friends. What about your friends Lilly and Oliver?"

"Momma doesn't have to be dead for us to move to California. We could do it any time. Like Eloise always said, the people who are destined to meet you will find their way to you eventually, through Heaven's will. Lilly, Oliver, Hannah Montana, even." Miley gritted her teeth in an effort to speak properly, her heart threatening to burst.

Luann watched her cousin cautiously, wondering when was the best time to say something. Miley began to shake with suppressed emotion, clenching her fists and biting her lower lip. The memories flooding her mind; her deceased best friend, her lost mother, and all the times they had before the fateful day, all seemed to be waging a battle against Miley's self-command and control.

"But, then again, those destined to leave your side will also die the way Heaven wills. Eloise, Momma, and who knows? Might be me tomorrow..."

Miley's voice trailed away into nothingness, the lingering echoes of her words consumed by the gale. Yet as leaves and twigs were blown around violently, and the temperatures not rising much, the two girls stood there in silence.

"I just can't imagine why would she have to go. It's not fair at all..." Miley's voice was now strained; she was desperately fighting back the urge to burst into tears. "Why did it have to be HER destiny?"

The sky was as dark as ever. Miley dropped onto her knees and stared at the sad grey tombstone, sobbing. She babbled some incomprehensible words, and when it became evident that she could no longer speak properly, she buried her face in her hands and broke down.

Luann felt a knife stab her heart. Despite their rivalry, she was always very empathic about her twin's feelings, and right now, she was sure that the knife that stabbed her heart was nothing compared to the pain her cousin suffered. Luann knew that it was highly unlikely that Miley would ever get over the incident; her father did say something about post-traumatic stress disorder a year ago.

"Come, Miley. Let's go in." A steady drizzle began to fall. Luann rolled up the picnicking mat and looked at her cousin, both of them helpless in different ways. A soft rumble of thunder was heard in a distance, and Luann decided to get Miley indoors first. Gathering her cousin in her arms, she felt Miley giving her a bear-hug and crying into her shoulder.

"Come on, cuz. We have to go indoors." Luann said, rubbing Miley's back awkwardly.

"Can I help?" A soft but clear voice was heard ten paces away. Luann turned her head away from her twin's head and saw Lilly walk up to them slowly and gingerly.

Miley broke away from Luann, gasping and sobbing very hard, as if trying to catch her breath. Luann gave her a watery smile and said, "We'll talk about it indoors, shall we?"

Miley returned the smile in spite of herself, and picking up the mat, the three made to go back to the house.

"Wow. Definitely something you don't see everyday." Lilly muttered to herself, watching Miley and Luann's backs.

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"I'd like to sing a song for everyone, and especially for Mommy. It's a classic, so if you know the lyrics, just sing along."

Miley sat cross-legged on her plastic chair and placed the guitar on her lap. She poised her fingers over the strings and began to strum a simple melody-accompaniment. Beside her, her father also had a guitar in his lap, sitting on a chair.

_When I was just a little girl_

_I asked my mother, what will I be_

_Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?_

_Here's what she said to me_

Robbie Ray, Lilly and Luann joined in the chorus of the well known song.

_Que Sera Sera_

_What ever will be, will be_

_The future's not ours to see_

_Que Sera Sera_

_What will be, will be_

And there was a round of applause from the audience.

The small rains of morning persisted till nine o'clock. When the storm clouds cleared away, the family immediately moved out onto the fresh-smelling lawn and brought out some convenient plastic tables and chairs to picnic, the grass still being wet and unsuitable for a mat. The sun's raise shone without heat, yet the air was pleasantly warm and cool at the same time. The winds howling hours ago were now merely light breezes.

_When I was young, I fell in love_

_I asked my sweetheart, what lies ahead_

_Will we have rainbows, day after day?_

_Here's what my sweetheart said_

_Que Sera Sera_

_What ever will be, will be_

_The future's not ours to see_

_Que Sera Sera_

_What will be, will be_

Miley thought that somehow, her mother heard the songs. Glancing at her father, she knew that he was thinking the same thing. Did her mother know about Jake Ryan?

_Now I have children of my own_

_They ask their mother, "What will I be?"_

"_Will I be handsome? Will I be rich?"_

_I tell them tenderly_

_Que Sera Sera_

_What ever will be, will be_

_The future's not ours to see?_

_Que Sera Sera_

_What will be, will be!_

The song reached its waltz-like end. It was one of the many sung that afternoon. Around one o'clock, they witnessed a herd of deer cross the plains just in sight, but quite far away. Before anybody ran off to frolic in the field with the benevolent creatures, Robbie Ray sang a Disney classic song, one that was affiliated with the green plains, the mountains and beautiful countryside. It was one of Miley's personal favourite songs as well, and it became a favourite duet for the both of them.

_Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam_

_Where the deer and the antelope play_

_Where seldom is heard a discouraging word_

_And the skies are not cloudy all day_

_Home, home on the range_

_Where the deer and the antelope play_

_Where seldom is heard a discouraging word_

_And the skies are not cloudy all day_

The lyrics were simple, but the song was beautiful. The wind began blowing at the sound of the melody.

Miley, Luann, Lilly and all the other younger ones then spent much of the afternoon playing around on the fields. The gentle breeze and the heat-less sun worked in harmony; the afternoon was neither hot like the Atacama Desert nor gale-stricken as if a storm approached. The dew on the fields seemed to cool down the air on the grass, and all the wild animals of the plains; deer, antelope and rodents alike, were friendly and happy to frolic together.

And then there were the sunflower fields. Its brilliance was overwhelming; bright yellow glowed like a million torches facing the sun, with brown faces peppering the wondrous and beautiful landscape. Even though they were no longer children, the fourteen-year-olds still followed the younger ones to the massive field of yellow petals, where they played in the stalk a game of cat and mouse.

All the while, a gentle breeze came from the west. Miley stood on the tip of a small hill and stretched her arms out in a crucifix position, exposing the front of her body to the cool winds. Carrying the fragrance of the sunflowers, the winds were soft, blowing against her cheek gently, sweetened as if imbued mild perfume. For a while, Miley thought she was no longer on Earth, but a totally new dimension altogether.

An afternoon of paradise.

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"Hey Mile. Time to go." Robbie Ray called twenty paces away from Miley's back. Miley did not answer, standing and staring at the tombstone of her mother's.

It was sunset, and on the horizon sat a brilliant red sun due to retire for the night to come. Its glow painted the sky red and pink, making the place look ethereal. It was a dreamland, and while the Truscotts expressed their heartfelt gratitude and sincere thanks towards the Stewart family, Miley was in another world of her own. Standing in front of her was none other than her mother Brooke Stewart.

"Baby girl, my body may rest here, but my soul exists in you heart." Brooke said tenderly, placing her hand over Miley's heart.

"I know Mom, but, we still come back every year." Miley said, not really knowing what she was saying. She was in the arms and the warm embrace of her mother's, and right now, all that mattered to her was the smell of her mother's natural fragrance that seemed to emanate right out of her; her hair, her heart, as if it were a natural perfume.

"You can summon me any time, sweet pea. Didn't you know that? You could have sung those songs in California and I would still be able to join you." Brooke went on, stroking Miley's brown curly locks.

"I miss your hug, Mom..."

"Oh, baby girl. Know that I am never far away. In fact, I still live. I live closer than you think. I am now part of you. Part of Jackson, of your Daddy, part of our family. Just think about me, and I'll be there." Brooke placed both hands on Miley's cheeks and spoke to her right in the eyes. "It worked last time. Why wouldn't it work again?"

"Mom, why can't I get over this...sadness? If you're so close to us, why do I cry all the time? Why can't I sleep at night?" Miley asked the unanswerable question. Brooke's voice instantly changed into a more concerned tone.

"About that, Miley. I think you will need to go see a doctor about it. It's not your fault you can't get over it. Truth is, you already got over it. It's just your body that didn't." Brooke advised with some ambiguity. "Post-traumatic stress disorder. I recognised it immediately." she concluded in a professional voice.

Miley chortled. "I can't believe you can give a diagnosis even when you're no longer with us." she humoured.

"Hey. I am still with you, I am still you mother, and I will forever be a paediatrician. That's me." Brooke rebutted playfully.

The sun was three quarters down. Miley looked at her mother wistfully.

"I have to go now."

Her mother hugged her one last time, saying, "It's time for you to go back, now. You're not like me; I can fly now. Get back home and get some sleep. You've got school tomorrow."

At that moment, Robbie Ray called again, "Miley! Time to go!"

Brooke looked at her husband and said to Miley, "Go. I'll see you tonight." She planted a spiritual yet physically felt kiss on Miley's head before slowly fading away, the fragrance and warmth still lingering around the tombstone.

"I'm going now." She placed little rose in front of the tombstone, to honour her mother's body, not her spirit. The body that birthed her. She kissed the tombstone once and stood up.

"MILEY!"

"Coming Daddy!"

Before long, she fell asleep on the car, and when she opened her eyes, she was back in Malibu, the car on the driveway to their house.

"What the sam-heck were you doing standing there just now?" Her father asked, mystified.

"I'm sure you can feel her physically, the way you do in dreams." She replied simply. Beside her, Jackson whispered to himself, "Oh snap. I've still got biology homework to do."

Life continues...

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Okay so I got that out of my head at last. Now for some real getting on with the story. Stay tuned! (And seriously, I mean it.)

I'll be glad to receive reviews, even if it's only one short sentence. I need some motivation right now, being rather depressed recently. It's who I am, and what's happening around me, really.

Until I return, signing off,

Terrorking Tragedian


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